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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670594">Someone of My Kind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havoka/pseuds/Havoka'>Havoka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Borderlands (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel....2!!, Autistic Character Written By Autistic Author, Gen, Tannis creates herself a weird digital daughter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:47:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havoka/pseuds/Havoka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In an effort to better understand why she was given her powers, Tannis creates a digital Angel clone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patricia Tannis &amp; Angel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: Empathy for the Devil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title is from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXFfxUxf7hw">this song</a>, which partially inspired the fic as well!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patricia Tannis had many secrets. Her closest confidantes knew of her biggest one–her inherited siren powers–but incidentally, her second-biggest secret remained such to all but one person. </p><p>That person was the subject of said secret. </p><p>Patricia Tannis was not an empathetic woman. The plights of others rarely plagued her, and she often found the missteps of her companions more fascinating than tragic. It intrigued her that human beings, despite being one of the most intellectual species in the universe, could still fall prey to the most basic emotional responses, reactions that often ultimately doomed them. </p><p>She had never really understood what it was like to have another being reach out and touch one’s heart, bypassing all intellect and logic. </p><p>But the universe had a strange way of forcing everyone to play by its nonsensical rules. </p><p>She was halfway through a shark butter and bladeflower seed sandwich when it happened. The sandwich was unremarkable, and she had forgotten to stir the butter beforehand, leaving a layer of oil dripping out from between the slices of untoasted bread. With a huff, she’d reached for a dirt-stained napkin at the other end of the table. </p><p><em> Dr. Tannis? </em> </p><p>The voice was crystal clear in her head. With a little start, Patricia quickly looked to the sandwich in her hands. “Oh my goodness.” She dropped the remaining half of it to the chipped old plate she’d been eating it on. The butter-caked knife beside it was glinting in the strong Pandoran sunlight, an obvious ploy for her attention. “I had no idea you had a voice as well! Look at me, leaving you covered in butter!” Grabbing up the utensil, she reached for the dirty napkin at her other side. “And what is your name?” </p><p><em> My name is Angel. </em> </p><p>“Angel? Oh, how funny! That was the name of my pet Spiderant when I was a child. Wait-I didn’t live on Pandora as a child. ...I must have invented that memory.” She wiped the excess butter from the knife, revealing its rusty blade. “It’s often difficult for me to decipher the actual events of the past versus what I dreamt up while entertaining bandits with my tales.” She squinted at the knife. “Don’t look at me like that! It’s hard to entertain dead men without stretching the truth a bit!” </p><p><em> Dr. Tannis. </em>The voice was soft, far softer than a knife’s voice ought to be. <em>I know who you are. Who you </em><em>were. </em><em>I’ve watched a bunch of your old TED talks on </em><em>ECHOtube</em><em>. You were...you </em><b><em>are </em></b><em>an incredible woman. </em> </p><p>“Oh, why thank you! You’re pretty impressive yourself, despite the rust.” She wiped the last of the butter oil off the knife’s surface with her coat. All cleaned up like that, it didn’t look too bad. “I must say, I’m unsure how ‘relations’ would work with a partner as sharp as yourself, but your flattery is certainly effective, and it <em>has </em>been quite lonely since I lost Phillipe...” </p><p>A sudden coldness began to spread up her arms - no, not both arms. Just her left one, mostly. The fine hairs on her forearm rose to stand on end. “Hm, look at that, Angel!” she exclaimed with a chuckle. “You’re giving me goosebumps!” </p><p><em> I’m sorry for what happened to you, Doctor. </em>The apology was accompanied by what felt like a hand touching Patricia’s own. <em>I hope someday you might forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you or your friends. </em> </p><p>“Oh, Angel, you’ve never hurt me! If you’re talking about the time I nicked my finger on you while cutting a tomato, I can assure you I’ve moved far past that. Our relationship will be no worse for wear due to a simple...” </p><p>The knife was no longer reflecting Pandora’s sunlight. It was now reflecting a soft blue glow. </p><p>She had never seen a blue sunburn before. She’d also never seen one weave up a person’s arm and form intricate, tattoo-like patterns. She’d also also never had a sunburn make her feel like she was putting her hand in electrically-charged ice water. </p><p>At the time, she’d had no idea her conversation with Angel the butter knife would be her last moment of a life adherent to the laws of science. </p><p>Developing siren powers was a journey in and of itself. That alone could have made for a lifetime of discoveries, of studies, of ECHO logs filled with semi-coherent observations. But no, the universe was not content to leave her alone to study the ancient alien power apparently imbued within her. </p><p>The power was accompanied by a voice. It did not “speak” as a tangible person would, but whenever she touched certain things, or tasted certain foods, or smelled certain scents, the voice made itself known in her head. At first she believed it to be yet another box to check on her “descent into madness” list - then she touched a piece of Eridium looted from Hyperion’s mined stash. The voice took form. Its words were memories - and they were screamed in Tannis’ head. </p><p>Fear, pain, more fear, hurt, anger, and eventual numbness. Those were the memories passed to her through her siren inheritance. Angel was not a butter knife. She was a child. The child of a man who had tortured Tannis, who had taken great delight in wounding her and destroying her beloved chairs. </p><p>Apparently even his own daughter had not been spared from his cruelty. </p><p>Being of a scientific mind, Dr. Tannis did not leave mysteries unsolved. She’d been told about the existence of a siren under Jack’s control, and how that siren was killed at approximately the same time on the same day she had been eating that lackluster shark butter sandwich and speaking with that lascivious knife of hers. Perhaps she should have listened more when Lilith was flapping her lips about whatever had happened and Tannis was looking at her bright yellow eyes and wondering if she was born with them or if they were a side effect of her siren powers. Now she had no answers about the siren and no answers about the eye thing, either. </p><p>Her technopathy, she gradually discovered, allowed her to speak with machines in a way that wasn’t a result of trauma-induced psychosis. With this newfound ability, as well as the ability to break-and-enter into Hyperion buildings and escape by talking her way out to the company’s security bots, she learned of Angel through the fingerprints the girl had left on the technology around her. Her world was small, made even smaller by her father. She lived the life of a firefly captured in an airtight jar. All she knew of the outside world she learned through the ECHOnet, a horribly warped lens through which she observed humanity. She had no friends of her own, but envisioned herself hanging around with the teenagers she saw in funny viral videos. She imagined what it might be like to go to parties, to go on dates, to be a normal 18-year-old girl - all while trapped in the underground chamber constructed by her bastard father. </p><p>A select few people knew of Tannis’ siren powers, but none knew of the memories they came with. Lilith never voiced anything that indicated she bore memories from her predecessor, whoever the previous Firehawk might have been. Perhaps Maya knew something, but the mysterious Athenian siren rarely engaged in conversation about her powers. In any case, Patricia did not bring the subject up to either of them. They’d probably think her crazy. </p><p>Instead she lay awake most nights in her Sanctuary cot, plagued by a gnawing in her gut she had never felt before. It was not hunger. It was not indigestion. It was not, contrary to any logical assumption, some water-borne pathogen from the foul filtered sewage Sanctuary labeled drinking water. </p><p>It was a mere stroke of ill fortune that Angel had inherited those powers. They brought upon the girl a short life of pain and suffering. Was Angel trying to pass that suffering on to her? She had said Tannis was an amazing woman. Perhaps she was trying to atone, giving Tannis the only thing she could offer her. </p><p><em> But why me?  </em>It was true she could relate in a tangential way to Angel’s struggles; she herself had always felt as though she were watching other people through a distorted pane of glass, too. She hadn’t had a “normal” childhood either, though she rarely dreamed of performing tasks like shopping or going to school dances. Such menial undertakings were best left to the dimwits who spent their lunch period flicking pieces of disgusting, grease-soaked school food at her, delighting in the way she recoiled at the smell and texture.  </p><p>Perhaps it was because the girl’s father had tortured Tannis as well. Angel must have played some role in that, willing or not. </p><p>After ruling out every other variable, she concluded the gut-gnawing had to be a feeling of guilt. She had not caused Angel’s death, nor her situation before it. Why, then, did she feel guilty? Or...was this empathy? Did she feel what this poor girl had been through as if it had happened to her? Was this how neurotypical people felt all the time? It was absolutely draining, to say the least. </p><p>Angel had not deserved to die. She had not deserved her life, even years before her actual death, to have been robbed from her by her horrible father. It shouldn’t have mattered to Tannis in the least, but it did. </p><p>Patricia Tannis was not the sort of woman to have passing thoughts about things. Her mind was like a bear trap, or like fly paper...no, like a Venus fly trap. Once the thought was in there, she snapped shut upon it, digesting it thoroughly, unable to let any other ideas in or out until that one was chewed to mush. </p><p>Angel did not deserve to die. She had never even been allowed to live. </p><p>With these powers, there must have been <em>something </em>Tannis could do. Science had the power to rebuild flesh, and she had the knowledge and memories (and stolen Hyperion medical records) to construct a brain... </p><p>Could she do it? Probably. Should she do it? Well, she <em>could</em>, and that was the most important part, wasn’t it? After all, science was all about pushing the possibilities, and questioning the boundaries, and had that supply locker always had three slats? She could have sworn it was four. What had she been thinking about again? Oh, yes. Resurrecting the dead. Specifically the dead spawn of her most hated enemy. </p><p>She hopped out of bed, a stained furniture catalog falling out of her blankets as she did so. The clock above the bed read 3:27am. “Ah, the Witching Hour,” she murmured to no one, “a perfect time for technonecromancy!” </p><p>Grabbing her ECHO recorder, she hurried past the shapeshifting supply lockers, into her makeshift laboratory. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sad Machine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As it turned out, creating life from DNA samples was not as easy as movies made it seem. Not that Tannis watched movies. But she’d seen trailers. And they had certainly been misleading. </p><p>The first creation of hers that could have debatably been called “life” was a blob of pale flesh in a test tube. It was not sentient, but the cells could replicate, and it demonstrated a rudimentary reaction to being prodded by a finger. “Angel 1.1”, as Tannis named it, survived for three days. It might have lived longer if it had had any way to ingest water or nutrients. Alas, it did not, and so Tannis gave it the most dignified burial at sea she could manage by way of flushing it down the toilet. </p><p>Angel 1.2 came about after Tannis figured out how to hijack a Hyperion New-U station and get it to come back with her to the lab (all right, admittedly she may have had to use a bit of her feminine wiles to work her magic on the machine, but was she supposed to simply <em> not </em>  use every resource available to her as an attractive woman of science?). Of course, without an intact corpse to scan, the machine could not do much. Thankfully there were always bodies lying around Sanctuary. Her reputation must have preceded her with the locals, as not a single bottom-feeder questioned her dragging a half-rotten body through the streets of Sanctuary, mumbling to herself as she tried to remember the nucleotide sequence she’d extracted from a cell of Angel 1.1 shortly before its death. Whatever Angel 1.2’s DNA sequence would end up looking like, it should  <em> not </em> be that. </p><p>Apparently superimposing the identity of one creature onto the body of another did not end well, either. Or maybe it was the advanced decay of the body that sent the New-U haywire. In any case, Angel 1.2 came into being as a writhing mess of a creature, gasping and sputtering bile from a decayed esophagus while her eyeless sockets–in retrospect, she probably should have realized eyeballs were one of the first things to be eaten away on corpses–fixed on Tannis with inexpressible agony. She was not very cooperative in Tannis’ attempted tests, and had the nerve to die before Tannis could even get vitals from her </p><p>Angel 1.2 did not get an honorable burial. </p><p>It was becoming increasingly clear the reason people did not simply use modern technology to raise the dead. Perhaps Tannis had bitten off more than she could chew with this task. Or perhaps she was going about it wrong. </p><p>The next Angel clone was a radical change in direction from her prior incarnations. Tannis had been thinking so literally about reanimating a dead person that she hadn’t stopped to consider the alternative. Both she and Angel exercised a mastery of technology, commanding it to act as if it were alive. She did not believe in signs - the divine kind, not the kind that told you not to touch live wires or to “pis” off of bandit territory, those were very real - but it seemed that, if the universe<em> were </em>able to communicate in a sentient manner, and it wanted her to resurrect a dead teenager, it would probably expect her to use her technopathy to do so. </p><p>She was no graphic designer, and she had little idea what Angel looked like outside of the girl’s drawings. She imagined her probably being a wretched little thing, living in a cave for untold years. She was probably ugly, and either fat from lack of movement or scrawny from malnutrition. In her drawings she didn’t look hideous and malnourished, but who would draw themselves looking ugly? It probably wasn’t accurate. </p><p>Regardless of what this Angel girl actually looked like in life, Tannis did not want her creation to look like the fruit of Handsome Jack’s loins. She should be beautiful, with kind eyes and an endearing smile. But not <em>too </em>beautiful, as Ricardo, the locker she’d recently taken up with, had wandering eyes as it was. More on the average end of beautiful. Like Lilith. </p><p>And so she set to work designing what she hoped would be worthy of the moniker “Angel 2.0”. She digitized every drawing, every medical file, and every old photograph she’d managed to “obtain” from Jack’s possessions, and stored them on the chip that would comprise Angel 2.0’s brain. It was interesting to see that the girl really <em>didn’t</em> look much like Jack to begin with. Stark black hair with big, watery blue eyes conjured a look of deep, perennial sorrow, like one might see in a Victorian painting of a sad orphan or something. Her skin looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in years–an unimaginable concept on Pandora. </p><p>Unfortunately, the backup of Angel’s brain that Handsome Jack had maintained seemed devoid of any real personality or opinions. It was very clearly a selective backup created for utility purposes. An intelligence destined to be a tool and nothing else. <em>Fortunately, </em>that was where Tannis’ excellent improvisational skills came in. Like a weaver fixing tattered cloth, she filled the gaps with the traits, interests, and opinions she’d garnered from the hundreds of drawings, bits of terrible teenage poetry, and diary entries she had nosily pored over after robbing Hyperion blind. Some of the ideas she imbued the clone with seemed to flow directly from her fingertips without passing through her own brain first. Where they came from was anybody’s guess. </p><p>And so Angel 2.0 became a hybrid of her predecessor’s truths and her creator’s ideals. </p><p>Nearly two weeks of toiling eventually manifested into a tiny microchip, no bigger than Tannis’ thumbnail. That little chip contained the entire essence of a human being, or at least an insane doctor’s reimagining of a human being. The chip was to be cradled inside a small hoverdisc with a built-in light to project the Angel hologram. Ideally, the girl would be able to control the disc’s movement via electrical impulses generated by the chip, allowing her to move relatively freely around a room. She would fare best in darkness, which was fine, since Tannis wasn’t exactly eager to go showing her off to the Crimson Raiders. Or anyone, really. It would be difficult to explain to others why she was reanimating Handsome Jack’s dead child. It was difficult to explain it to <em>herself</em>. </p><p>Or perhaps it wouldn’t be as difficult as she thought, considering everyone believed her insane. Which she was, at least in their eyes. The vague concept of “insanity” was a much more digestible explanation to the simpletons of this dirt rock than pulling out the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders and trying to cross-reference complex post-traumatic stress disorder, autism, schizoaffective disorder, and whatever else genetics and this hell planet had blessed her with. </p><p>At least it gave her an excuse to do whatever she wanted. </p><p>For the umpteenth time, she found herself staring at the tattoos that now flourished over half her body. Women like Lilith and Maya made sense as sirens. They carried that mysterious aura of grace and power, and the sleek, femme fatale aesthetic befitting a group of all-female super beings. Even their names were appropriately preternatural. Lilith, Maya...Patty. It felt like a joke. </p><p>Angel had made a poor decision in giving her powers to a woman who could barely handle daily life as it was. But that decision, and the powers, would not go to waste. Tannis was making sure of that. </p><p>Like all children, Angel 2.0 started off as an embryo. Of course,<em> un</em>like most children, that embryo was a tiny orb of light projected from the hoverdisc that would serve as her physical body. It was a soft and gentle blue color, and it swayed gingerly back and forth, creating a tiny light tail not unlike that of a shooting star. Tannis set the disc down on her desk, then took a seat at her worn old chair. Her eyes did not leave the hologram. </p><p>It took a surprisingly long time for the image to read from the chip and take form. As the data was read, the hologram slowly began to expand and gain a humanoid shape. The little tadpole of light grew arms and legs–much thinner and frailer than Tannis found herself expecting–and those limbs quickly retreated inward to curl around the vulnerable body. A vague head shape soon emerged, and then a cascade of blue light poured down one side of it, forming long, asymmetrical hair.  </p><p>It took all of Tannis’ willpower not to reach out and attempt to touch the novel being. She convinced herself it was not worth the risk of potentially disrupting the data download. But watching life, even digital life, being created before her was...beyond fascinating. It was humbling. </p><p>Once the base layer loaded, the exterior layers began to pop in. The girl’s digitized model had originally been skinned in a black, white, and Hyperion-yellow bodysuit that looked both clunky and uncomfortable. Before downloading the model into the hologram chip, Tannis had tampered with the design just a bit, changing her outfit to a simple white dress that did not cling to every inch of her young body. She had no idea of Angel’s tolerance for fabrics, or if she would even be able to feel her clothing in this form anyway, but one could never go wrong with something soft and flowing. It was the kind of outfit a young Patty herself might have worn on her most overtaxed sensory days. </p><p>Angel’s feet, Tannis noticed as the details of her image began to sharpen, hung limply from her wiry legs. There was no visible strength to them whatsoever. The body of someone who had spent most of her life confined to a chair.  </p><p>Her facial features, including her ears, were small, child-like even on a teenager, and did not take up much space on her head. The biggest and most attention-grabbing feature she had were her eyes, currently closed. A smattering of black flecks on blue “skin” represented the freckles she’d had in life. The half of her scalp that was shaved bore two long, deep scars–permanent reminders of the cybernetic implants Jack had installed into the first Angel’s brain. Tannis could have removed them. Perhaps she should, eventually. </p><p>Curled up with her eyes shut, Angel appeared to be sleeping. Of course, that was not truly the case, as holograms did not require sleep. Her personality had not fully loaded yet. </p><p>When it did, what was Tannis to do with the girl? She had the memories of Angel 1.0, for all the good and bad that entailed. What if she started shrieking madly, or crying, or worst of all, trying to initiate a conversation? Not every teenage girl preferred to spend her free time staring at a wall for anywhere between one and six hours. </p><p><em> Patty, you made this bed. </em>If Angel wanted to speak to her, she was just going to have to deal with it. Being a nonhuman being of light and technology, perhaps the girl wouldn’t trigger her vomit reflex. That was it–a Patricia Tannis rework of the old “picturing someone in their underwear ” trick.<em> Don’t think of her as a human being. </em><em>Imagine</em><em> her as just another machine you communicate with. </em></p><p>What felt like hours turned out to be about eleven minutes from first appearance of the hologram embryo to Angel reaching her complete form. Tannis leaned in close to the girl’s flickering face, searching for any signs of consciousness. “Ah!” She stumbled backward as Angel’s eyelids fluttered. </p><p>Slowly, for the very first time, Angel 2.0’s radiant blue eyes opened, washing the room in oceanic light. Her pupils dilated as they took in the sight of Tannis’ dimly-lit lab, the site of a scientific miracle. Gradually she uncurled her arms and legs from their tight pull against her body. Her feet did not touch the floor, but instead hovered ethereally just above it. She was mostly solid, yet just a bit translucent, a being of another world overlaid on a background that was painfully mundane. </p><p>Tannis was too transfixed to even notice if the girl’s presence made her nauseous. She took a step forward, beholding the marvel of human tech and siren magic given form in front of her. The girl was slow to react at first, but gradually mimicked Tannis’ movement, reaching a hand out to meet hers. At the point their palms would have touched, Tannis instead felt an intangible warmth, like putting one’s hand near a light bulb. That was as solid as Angel 2.0 could be, a being of light and heat. </p><p>“Greetings, Angel,” was all she could think to say. </p><p>The greeting brought a change to the girl’s expression. She tossed her head, letting her hair fall to block most of her face like a blackout curtain. Her single visible eye focused downward, and her pupil flicked from one side of the eye to the other, just as humans’ did when accessing memories. The light of her projection wavered, then intensified, turning everything in the room blue. </p><p>“Are you able to access Angel 1.0’s memories?” Tannis grabbed for the nearest notebook and pencil on her desk, ready to note every observation. </p><p>The girl before her’s lips parted slightly, as though she were about to answer. They closed just as soon as they’d opened, however. Instead she curled her legs back up and began to study her ghostly hands. </p><p>Tannis was hardly an expert at initiating conversation, but this was close enough to her special interests that she could at least use her scientific knowledge as a jumping off point. She knelt down and checked the tiny screen on the hoverdisc. Yes, Angel 2.0 was accessing the RAM. In fact, nearly 100% of her system resources were currently allocated to sweeping her vast unread memory. “Ah. You haven’t left enough space for your CPU to run the speech process. That’s fine with me; we may sit in pensive silence while you digest everything I’ve uploaded into your digital brain.” </p><p>And so that was what they did. Tannis spent the better part of the next hour tapping away at her computer, stealing glances at her creation, and occasionally scribbling down observations in her notebook. Angel remained curled up like a newborn kitten, her eyes now closed, only opening occasionally to look around, as if expecting to see something that was not there. </p><p>Tannis nearly had a heart attack when, after slipping into a half-asleep state on her desk, Angel’s voice startled her back to reality. </p><p>“Am I...Angel?” Her voice was indeed the voice that had spoken to Tannis before granting her siren powers. The only difference was that it now had a hint of automation to it, an imperfect attempt at recreating the human vocal cords. “I feel different.” </p><p>“You are not ‘Angel’. Not quite.” Tannis rubbed the sleep from her eyes, stretched her arms until her back cracked, and then got up from her desk. “Angel died a miserable death at the hands of her father, and in some inexplicable way managed to pass her siren powers to me. I have since utilized them to construct you, an artificial intelligence based on the frankly disturbing number of brain scans Angel’s father had done on her before her death.” </p><p>“So...I’m a clone of Angel.” </p><p>“Precisely. I had originally designated you ‘Angel 1.3’, but I think you’re a significant enough jump from your predecessor to earn the title of ‘Angel Two’.” </p><p>The girl curled herself up small again. Her visible eye darted back and forth, and then her projector light went dim, leaving her little more than a shadow on the nearest wall. </p><p>“I shouldn’t be here.” </p><p>Tannis grinned. “And yet you are! Together you and I are defying death, spitting in the face of the natural order of the universe and telling it to go suck our toes!” A maniacal little cackle slipped out at the end. Gosh, sometimes she really<em> did </em>sound like a mad scientist. </p><p>The girl hugged herself. Her angelic face turned ugly as she shook her head furiously from side to side. “No, no! This is all wrong! I asked your friends to kill me so I wouldn’t be able to hurt people anymore. Dragging me back to the living world–it's cruel!” The fingers of one hand tangled in the unshaven half of her hair. The other grabbed the fabric of her digital dress. “I know I did a lot of bad things, but now I just want peace. I just want to sleep for the rest of eternity, like I was already doing.” </p><p>Tannis had anticipated a possible emotional outburst as Angel 2.0 took in eighteen years of memories all at once, but this was not the sort of topic she’d expected. All conversational scripts she’d prepared ahead of time were void in the face of such…existential anguish. </p><p>“Why would you want to be dead?” Tannis asked. Even she could acknowledge her tone was cold. “Death is the end. There’s nothing else to experience afterward. All creatures’ most basic instinct is to survive–even artificial beings.” She reached out to the hoverdisc. “Your data must be corrupted. I can run a system repair-” </p><p>“Dr. Tannis.” The girl’s hand, warm and otherworldly, enveloped Tannis’ arm as she reached for the disc at Angel’s feet. “It’s true. Death <em>was </em>just nothing. Like a long, dreamless sleep. But at least I wasn’t able to hurt anyone anymore. All my life, all I did was cause suffering to others. All I ever did was make situations worse. Why would you bring me back into this world? To cause more pain? To get more people killed?” </p><p>It made no sense. Who cares if she got people killed? Such was life, especially life on Pandora, where the phrase “evolutionary arms race” was taken quite literally. </p><p>When Tannis looked up into her creation’s face, she was shocked to see sparkles of light trailing from the corners of both of her eyes. They disappeared with a glimmer into thin air, but left soft twinkles to drift downward onto Tannis’ arms, disappearing only once they landed on her weathered old coat. </p><p>“Dr. Tannis,” she said. In that moment, her voice sounded as human as any other. “Please listen to me. I don’t want to be here. I know it doesn’t make any logical sense, but if you have any bit of mercy in you...please. Let me go back to sleep.” </p><p>“But you aren’t sleeping. You’ll be dead. Forever.” Tannis watched as a sparkle of light landed on the back of her hand. It felt like nothing at all. “I...want to make sure I’m understanding this quite clearly. You would prefer to cease to exist, and never exist again. That is what you’re telling me, is it not?” </p><p>Biting her lip, Angel nodded. </p><p>Of course, Tannis did not have to honor this request. Angel was her creation, after all. She could keep the girl “alive” all she wanted, studying her and utilizing her knowledge. </p><p>Which would make her no better than Jack. </p><p>“If it’s what you want,” she murmured, “then I suppose I can destroy your data chip. And the backups as well.” </p><p>Angel seemed surprised by her acquiescence. “Thank you.” </p><p>Having to destroy one of her most incredible experiments was like a kick to the teeth. She may not have had the most humanitarian moral code, but she would <em>not </em>allow herself to behave in any way similar to Handsome Jack. If Angel did not want to exist any longer, well, she’d just have to program an AI without her specific memories or personality. A blank slate. Not a girl at all. Just a machine. </p><p>A few spots of warmth registered on her head. Angel’s tears of light were coming steadily now, an extension of her holographic body. </p><p>“So...” Tannis’ finger hovered over the power button on the tiny disc. “This is goodbye, then. You will cease to exist forever.” </p><p>Angel said nothing, merely watching Tannis’ hand as it settled on the button. </p><p>“Really, truly forever.” She had no idea why the thought seemed to bother her more than it bothered Angel herself. “No chance to experience anything in this mad, wondrous world ever again.” </p><p>“It’s for the best.” Angel’s tears seemed to contradict her words. “I’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever come in contact with.” </p><p>“That’s false.” Tannis kept her eyes on the disc, watching the girl’s CPU activity move in erratic peaks and valleys. “Your father hurt me, yes, but I have no problem with you. And I’ve done my fair share of hurting people as well. It’s difficult to navigate this rough and brutish life without doing so.” </p><p>Angel’s memory usage spiked again. “Yeah, but...your friends. They’d never forgive me.” </p><p>Tannis eased the pressure of her fingertip on the power button. The repeated use of the term “friends” as applied to her life was certainly novel. “Lilith has already forgiven you, at the very least. And the rest aren’t too bright. Honestly, you could probably just wait a few months for their goldfish memories to forget all about your betrayals.” </p><p>“That’s not nice!” </p><p>“Hm?” Tannis glanced up from Angel’s task manager. “It wasn’t meant as an insult. Merely an objective observation. And why should you care if I insult my colleagues, anyway? You’re going to be dead the moment I push this button and smash your data chip under my boot heel.” </p><p>Angel’s indignant expression melted back into a pensive look, those sad eyes–well, eye–dominating her entire face. “...Right. You’re right.” </p><p>Again Tannis reached for the button–and again she found she hesitated. “Since you’re not going to exist a few minutes from now,” she said, “I suppose there’s no harm in sharing this with you.” Meeting Angel’s sorrowful gaze, she continued. “I hurt many people when I was your age as well. It wasn’t my intention–I struggled with the distinctions of what was considered hurtful or insulting and what was simply honest fact. If a person had gained weight, or was having a bad hair day or something, I would idly comment upon it, thinking I was engaging in the ‘small talk’ others expected of me. And then their faces would change, and their voices would take on an angry tone, and I would be left wondering if they had wanted me to lie to them instead. It was...not easy growing up that way.” </p><p>Angel took some time to process that. Her eyes combed over Tannis, and the increased disk access told Tannis that story was being written to her permanent memory. “But people love you, Doctor. You have a whole family with the Crimson Raiders.” </p><p>“That I was dragged kicking and screaming–quite literally–into. Had I had things my own way, I would still be locked up in a shack on my old dig site, afraid to look another human in their disgusting, sweat-mottled face.” </p><p>Angel’s memory usage spiked again. This time she was reading from it, not writing to it. “I remember that,” she eventually said. “Dad had his eye on you for a long time. And by ‘his eye’, I mean, well, me.” Her form drifted downward until it mimicked a sitting position on the floor opposite Tannis. Her knees “blocked” the hoverdisc. While Tannis could have easily reached through the hologram to push the power button, she withdrew her hand. “I was rooting for you, you know.” Angel’s hands, small in the palm but with long, elegant fingers, settled together in her lap. “I always really admired you. You never let anything stop you from doing what made your heart sing. I used to watch your talks on xenoarcheology and wish that I could talk to people like that. That I could share my ideas, and teach people things without it being part of some bigger plan to...manipulate them.” </p><p>“Well, technically my talks were partially a way of manipulating others as well.” She shrugged. “You can’t get any funding if nobody is interested in your field!” </p><p>Angel’s fingers closed gently around the hem of her dress. “There were so many things I wanted to do. Jack took them all from me.” </p><p>“And Jack is dead now. You can do anything you’d like–well, anything a hologram can do, anyway. If you’re looking to try exotic foods or touch a bunch of unfamiliar textures, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Or perhaps relieved. I don’t really know you.” </p><p>Angel kneaded at her hem, cat-like. She said something, but it was so quiet Tannis could not quite get it. </p><p>“I’m sorry?” Tannis said. </p><p>“I wanted to go to high school. I wanted to be like in those ECHOcasts, where a bunch of teenagers ride in a bus together, and learn in big classrooms, and have lunch together, and decorate their lockers.” </p><p>Tannis waved a dismissive hand. “High school is painfully overrated. I spent most of it getting objects thrown at me.” </p><p>“Oh. I’m sorry.” </p><p>“It’s fine. I developed excellent reflexes as a result. They’ve probably saved my life more than once!” </p><p>For the first time since her creation an hour ago, Angel’s lips curved just the slightest bit upward. She kept her eyes on the ground, but said, “You have such a funny way of looking at things. I like that.” </p><p>“It was merely an adaptation to my surroundings. When you live in a constant state of nonsensical chaos, you either lose your mind, or...well, you still lose your mind, but you learn to embrace the madness.” </p><p>“I don’t think you’ve lost your mind. You make more sense to me than most people, actually.” </p><p><em> That </em>was certainly a first. Tannis looked up from the floor between them, and, upon meeting Angel’s eye(s), found that they were glimmering again. </p><p>“I wanted to see the universe.” Angel’s voice was small, but steady. “I wanted to have a life. Dad stole it all from me. Now I don’t know what ‘living’ is even like. I never got to have friends, or be normal. I never felt like a part of this world.” </p><p>Tannis snorted. “Having friends and being considered ‘normal’ are hardly parameters for measuring life, Angel. If they were, then I would certainly be considered clinically dead.” </p><p>Angel’s mouth twitched – then it spread across her face, breaking into a genuine smile. “That’s funny. I mean, you probably don’t mean it that way, but-” </p><p>“No, no, by all means, laugh away. I laugh at myself all the time. It’s either that or cry for hours about how my promising young career ended with me being stranded on a planet of unwashed criminals and living off of slagberry Pop-Tarts.” </p><p>Angel lifted her hand to her mouth and giggled. </p><p>Some sort of feeling–she wondered if it was too bold to call it an instinct–welled up inside Tannis as she sat with the girl she had created. Her own mother had hardly been a good example of maternal instincts, so she had little to go on. But somewhere in the deepest part of her brain, something quite illogical had made its first root. </p><p>“Angel,” she said, in the first attempt she had likely ever made at a parental tone, “I think you should stay, at least for a while. You’re<em> here.</em> Why just give that up?” </p><p>Angel’s smile sagged downward again, transforming back into the look of sadness she wore with such familiarity. “I still think I do nothing but hurt people, and I don’t understand why you want me here. I’ve done nothing but cause you all pain.” </p><p>“Yes, you have.” Tannis reached up to grab her notebook and pencil off her desk. “And that’s why you’re going to stay here and atone for that by teaching me all you know of Eridium and these powers of yours.” Crossing her legs, she opened the notebook and spread it across her lap, pencil in hand. “So, I’m here for your TED talk, Dr. Angel. Get talking.” </p><p>With her renewed smile, Angel’s body took on a glow bright enough to light the whole room. <br/> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Family Tradition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Forgive me</i>
  <br/>
  <i>I inherited this</i>
  <br/>
  <i>From a stranger I'll never miss</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She’d been so preoccupied with whether or not she <em>could </em>create a digital teenager, Tannis  hadn’t really stopped to consider what was required of maintaining one. That thought came quickly to her after talking Angel 2.0 out of assisted cyber suicide, when the girl fixed those haunting eyes on Tannis and said, “So…what’s my purpose now?” </p><p>Tannis had spent hours wringing every bit of information she could out of the girl–which, shockingly, was not a large sum of data. In spite of her importance to his schemes, it seemed Jack had shared only what was necessary for Angel to play her role in his plot. The things she did know she recited monotonously, like an unenthusiastic robot advertising its features. At Tannis’ first mention of the other sirens she’d encountered, however, Angel’s entire demeanor had brightened, and suddenly the discussion was veered in a wildly different direction. <em>Do you girls all hang out together? </em>was the first question the lonely AI bombarded her with. <em>Do you have parties? Do you paint each other’s nails and eat pizza and watch funny ECHO videos together?</em></p><p>Tannis felt her eye twitch. <em>No</em>. The word may as well have been a pin popping Angel’s balloon of enthusiasm. That was when the unanswerable question of her purpose had spilled forth from Angeltwo’s young brain, a prodding needle of her own. </p><p>“How should I know?” Tannis threw her palms up in a theatrical shrug. “I succeeded at my self-challenge of recreating you. I have no more role to play in your existence.” </p><p>In the mind of Patricia Tannis, such a statement meant that Angel 2.0 was not going to be locked into a role designated by her creator, as Angel 1.0 was. She wished to avoid that at all costs. But, like so many of her statements past and present, she was met with lowered eyes and a bitten lip, and Angel turning partly away from her. </p><p>“So…I’m alone. Again.” The light that comprised her body faded until she was barely visible. “More alone than I was, even.” Her ghostly hand traced the scars on the side of her head. </p><p>As if picking a multiple-choice answer she knew was probably incorrect, Tannis said, “…Yes.” </p><p>“I see.” Angel was so dim Tannis could no longer make out her fine details. After a moment, however, she blazed back into view. “You know what? That’s okay. I deserve this.” She drifted over to the filthy window of Tannis’ lab. By the time of day, Tannis knew it would still be dark out, but one could hardly tell from looking through that dingy old glass. “I’m sorry. You guys don’t owe me anything. I’ll find my own way.” </p><p>“Perfect! I’d have no idea how to care for a teenager anyway.” She gave Angel a small wave. “Farewell, then! Good luck in finding a purpose for yourself.” </p><p>For some reason, Angel still seemed melancholic. She drifted toward the door, her hoverdisc whirring quietly as she guided it with the ease and precision of someone who had spent a lifetime around machines. </p><p>“Bye.” </p><p>Tannis looked up from her observation notebook, where she’d begun to make footnotes on Angel’s relayed information, to watch the girl drift out the door. The way she looked as she stepped outside, before she dissolved her hologram and guided her disc unnoticed along the ground, reminded Tannis, strangely, of her own younger days. </p><p>Her mother had no interest in her studies, and she of course had no friends to accompany her, so she spent a great deal of time alone. She could still vividly recall her treks on foot to the nearest library (she’d never quite gotten the hang of riding a bike like her peers, not that it really mattered, since the noise of bicycle spokes grated relentlessly on her nerves). The knowledge she sought was its own reward, one she needed no accompaniment to enjoy. Yet often during her quiet studies, she would find herself disturbed by roving packs of fellow children, who tarnished the library with their dirt-caked fingernails and voices like nails in her eardrums. They would pull books off the shelves with reckless abandon, reading the titles aloud to one another like some sort of inefficient hive mind. Patty would clap her hands over her ears in an attempt to maintain focus on her reading, but the laughter and general merriment of her intrusive peers cut right through. </p><p>Going to the library was supposed to be educational, not <em>fun.</em> But, the thought had drifted through her mind more than once, if one had a like-minded companion or companions, maybe, potentially, it could be both. And the lengthy walk probably felt a lot shorter with company. </p><p>There were few beings on this dilapidated mud ball who appreciated the inherent value of knowledge for knowledge’s sake. The few who did could not understand her methods of conveying that knowledge, and so wrote her off as insane, just like everyone else. </p><p>Nobody on Pandora had ever mentioned watching her TED talks before. Those conferences felt like a lifetime ago, back when getting dressed up actually mattered, and she could speak in front of hundreds of people without melting down on stage, and her psyche wasn’t shattered beyond any hope of repair. She’d known they were being filmed and uploaded to the ECHOnet. What she couldn't have known was that someday a magical teenage girl imprisoned on an alien planet would be watching them. </p><p>Regardless, the fact of the matter remained that Tannis had no knowledge of, experience with, or desire to pursue raising a teenager. She’d given Angel a second chance at life, and no more should be expected of her. She’d played her part. Angel needed no further companionship. And neither did Tannis. </p><p>Why, then, did she feel a gnawing in her gut as she thought of the girl making her way through the dark streets of Sanctuary–or, worse, the wilds of Pandora–all alone? Tannis herself had survived both, and Angel could would be of no interest to the hungry local wildlife. Even if she <em>did </em>end up destroyed by something, well, Tannis had gotten all the information she could squeeze from the girl, so what did it matter? </p><p>Her nails tapped the surface of her desk, sending faint vibrations up through her fingertips. It did not matter–or rather it <em>should</em> not matter. The girl was getting a second chance at life, and Tannis now had ample firsthand information about her new powers. End of story. Time to go heat up a midnight snack skag burger and forget about it. </p><p>Of course, the mind of Patricia Tannis never forgot anything. No amount of reheated skag meat would replace the uncomfortable heaviness that filled her stomach that night. </p><hr/><p>
  <em> Location: Sanctuary, Pandora </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Population: unrecorded (estimate: &lt;1,000) </em>
</p><p><em> Current weather: Overcast. Chance of rain </em> <em> : </em><em>20%.</em></p><p>
  <em> Current objective: None. </em>
</p><p>Seeing the world through artificial eyes was nothing new to Angel. She had experienced all sorts of things, from wild storms and violent uprisings to gentle snowfall and cheerful celebrations, from behind a screen thousands of kilometers away. In that sense, becoming a genuine artificial intelligence did not feel shockingly different. In fact, there were some things that she found she liked better. Her leg muscles no longer ached from disuse. Her eyes didn’t feel itchy and dry from staring at screens all day. And, perhaps most significantly of all, her digital body was not addicted to Eridium. The first few times she’d been exposed to the mineral, the rush was insane. After five years of daily ingestion, she’d felt horrible with or without it. To be freed of that dependence felt like being taken off a leash. </p><p>Sanctuary was the one place on Pandora that her father had not completely bent to his will. Home to the last bastion of resistance against his war of total corporate domination. It seemed fitting she would be reborn there. </p><p>As much as she had grown to resent Jack toward the end of her life, the knowledge that he was dead, leaving her entirely alone in this world, left her conflicted. A good deal of her ability to cope with her nightmarish existence as his living secret weapon had come from her belief that eventually, when this horrible life was all over, she would see her mother again. That they would all be together again. </p><p>In death, she had met neither her mother nor her father. It was, as Dr. Tannis had put it, simply the end. </p><p>She knew from intercepting the doctor’s many ECHO logs over the years that her own mother had passed away when she was about thirteen years old. Angel found herself wondering if Dr. Tannis had ever contemplated seeing her mom in some sort of afterlife, or if she had always believed they were separated forever. </p><p>Nearly everyone on Pandora had someone they probably hoped to see again in another life. Knowing that hope was false had her feeling like a grim reaper throwing a shadow of finality over the tiny city. </p><p>None of the wandering citizens paid her little disc any mind as she drifted down the sidewalk, not bothering to project her hologram likeness. Tannis had imbued her with a small solar panel as her primary energy source. Pandora’s 90-hour light cycles would give her plenty of power, but her first outing being during a dim cycle probably wasn’t very smart. She assumed she was running on a backup battery at the moment, since she felt fine. </p><p>What did she really want to do with this second life? School probably wasn’t an option. Everyone living in this city hated her, or would the moment they found out who she was. That kind of ruled out having friends, too. Maybe she could go live with the bullymongs. At least then she could spend time with animals. She’d never really gotten to do much of that. </p><p>She had reached the outskirts of the city when she started hearing an odd noise. It repeated itself with mechanical rhythm, and was accompanied by the telltale squeaking of damaged metal joints. Curious despite her wariness of Sanctuary’s citizens, Angel followed the sound to the very last building before Sanctuary’s gates. The sound was coming from behind the building. </p><p>“Untz, untz, untz, untz.” The noise was accompanied by the squeak of a wheel in desperate need of oil. “Dancin’ in the dark. No one can make fun of me in the dark.” </p><p>The voice was instantly recognizable. In her excitement, Angel manifested her hologram body and rushed around the corner. “Claptrap!” </p><p>Sure enough, the funky little robot was spinning in a circle, flailing his rusty arms in the air. There was no music accompanying his dance. The moment he noticed Angel’s presence, he stopped. </p><p>“Hi Claptrap!” Angel crouched down to his level and gave him a friendly wave. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” </p><p>Claptrap’s single eye studied her for a long moment. </p><p>“It’s Angel!” she eventually said. </p><p>Claptrap’s arms pinwheeled backwards. “Angel! I thought you looked familiar! I forgot you humans do that weird aging thing.” In an instant, he was trying to hug her. His arms phased right through her, of course. “You look so different!” </p><p>“Yeah, I sort of…died and came back to life.” </p><p>“Really? What a coincidence! So did I!” Claptrap spun around, revealing the extent of the damage to his chassis. “Your dad tried to finish me off like the rest of the Claptraps, but I survived because I’m the toughest and also coolest of all Claptraps! And I mean that literally, since I’m the only one left.” </p><p>Angel had always liked the CL4P-TP units. They’d served as her only real friends for most of her life. The seeds of resentment she’d been germinating toward her father first bloomed when he had gleefully destroyed every innocent Claptrap unit in existence. Her discovery that one had survived had brought her great joy back then, even though she knew that, under Jack’s control like she was, she’d never be able to be friends with him again. </p><p>Before she could say anything in response, Claptrap was handing her a piece of paper. She demonstrated her inability to touch it by sticking her fingers through it and wiggling them. Undaunted, Claptrap rested it on her hoverdisc instead.  </p><p>“That’s an invitation to my next year’s birthday party. I wanted to give everyone pleeeenty of time to clear their schedules so somebody actually shows up!” </p><p>“Oh, I’d love to! Not sure where I’ll be in a year, but…” </p><p>Claptrap clasped his cute little hands together. “You’re not staying?” </p><p>With a sad smile, she made her best attempt at patting him on the head. His eye-light stared blankly up at her. </p><p>“I don’t really think I’m wanted here,” she said. </p><p>“So? Neither am I! And as you can see, I’m still hangin’ around!” </p><p>That was the Claptrap way. Cheerful, loyal, and forgiving to a fault. He was probably the only one here who didn’t despise her, despite having every reason in the world to. </p><p>“If you’re going to go,” Claptrap eventually said, “can we at least update my Pal Wall?” </p><p>Angel blinked. “Your what?” </p><p>“Here, let me show you!” Not being able to touch Angel didn’t stop Claptrap from guiding her–he scooped up her hoverdisc and carried her inside the dilapidated shack he apparently called home. </p><p>When he set her back down, it was in front of a corkboard of pictures printed on low-quality photo paper. Above it was scribbled the words “CLAPTRAP’S PALS”. </p><p>“See, I like to remind myself that there are people who tolerate me, so I linked my hard drive up to a wireless printer to print my memories! Unfortunately I guess I also ended up subscribed to automatic ink cartridge refills, too. I don’t have <em>that</em> many pals.” Beneath the wall was a gigantic pyramid of unused cartridges, more ink than any one person would need in a lifetime. “Anyway…behold!” </p><p>The board’s handful of pictures were cleverly spaced out to make the surface area appear less barren. The majority of the photos were of people shoving Claptrap away or looking angry. Sometimes both. </p><p>“Is that…Wilhelm?” Angel hardly recognized the man with only minor cybernetic upgrades. The angle the memory was captured at seemed to imply he had knocked Claptrap over and had a foot on his chassis. </p><p>“Yeah! He scared me, but hey, it’s another face for the wall. Those are hard to come by!” </p><p>There were only a few pictures that didn’t look actively hostile. One was of a blue-haired woman with cold, serious eyes; one hand clutched a spiked shield, while the other had a hand extended outward, helping Claptrap up off the ground. She looked familiar, but Angel couldn’t quite place her. Everyone looked sort of familiar when you had eyes all over the planet. </p><p>There was a picture of Lilith looking much younger–when she had first arrived on Pandora, for sure–taking Claptrap in with an amused little smile, and a picture of Roland…Angel couldn’t bear to look at that one for too long. </p><p>Toward the bottom of the board, a worn and damaged old picture was held by a rusty thumbtack. A child at Claptrap’s height smiled at him, exposing a gap from a freshly-lost tooth. Her bright blue eyes were round with joy and wonder as she beheld the friendly robot. </p><p>Angel touched the picture with two gentle fingers. “You put me on your Pal Wall?” </p><p>“Of course! You were my original pal! Well, besides Jack, but needless to say he lost his wall privileges.” </p><p>The sentiment was so pure and sweet Angel felt those digital tears welling up in her eyes again. “You were my original pal, too,” she said. “I was so lonely back then. I don’t know if I would have been able to keep going without you there to keep me laughing.” </p><p>“And now we’re updating the wall! Claptrap and Angel, take two!” </p><p>A piece of paper shot out of the printer and landed on the floor. Once Claptrap tacked it up beside the old Angel picture, Angel realized it was a picture of her rounding the corner just minutes ago. Although she was so much older, and clearly looked more than a little different, she wore the same look of pure joy as she came upon her old friend for the first time in years. </p><p>Claptrap pinned it with pride, then wheeled back to admire it when he was done. </p><p>Seeing herself–well, sort of herself–in the older picture left Angel feeling…something. Claptrap must have noticed, for he pointed a metal “finger” at her base and said “Hey, why’s your CPU going all crazy?” </p><p>That happy little girl hadn’t known any better. She’d assumed her father was protecting her, doing what was best for her. He had an innocent child convinced the world was scary and awful. That she was safest strapped to a freaking chair. </p><p>“A<em> fucking </em>chair,” she said under her breath, reveling in the momentary rush of swearing freely. </p><p>“Uh, that’s something Dr. Tannis would probably know more about.” Claptrap wheeled his squeaky, worn-down self over to the corner of the shack he called home. Laying directly on the floor was an old cot mattress without sheets, blankets or a pillow. It was covered in odds and ends that Claptrap quickly brushed onto the floor. “Anyway, we should have a sleepover before you go live with the bullymongs or whatever! I dragged this cot in here ages ago just in case I ever had company.”  </p><p>The bed was covered in a thick layer of undisturbed dust. “I think I’d like that,” Angel said, letting her anger ebb for the moment. “I don’t need a bed either, though.” </p><p>Claptrap spun in a circle. “All right! Claptrap and Angel back at it again, just like old times! Except I’m a lot rustier and you’re a hologram!” </p><p>In spite of the sour taste left in her mouth by the old photograph, Angel couldn’t help but feel her spirits lifting in the presence of her oldest friend. “So what would you like to do?” she asked, drifting around Claptrap as he spun and danced. “Should we tell scary stories? Play games? Listen to music?” </p><p>“How about ‘all of the above’!” He fired up the old radio sitting on a rusty shelf. Its tinny speakers performed their best rendition of some sort of jazzy electro-swing tune. Angel was not a dancer–but, it seemed, neither was Claptrap. “Yeah! Check us out! C’mon, get down!” </p><p>With a giggle, Angel joined in, dancing clumsily about. It was nice not to have that constant throbbing pain in her legs anymore, and that she could actually support herself standing up, sort of–but at the same time, feeling nothing wasn’t much better. No matter how much she twirled and danced, she did not get winded, nor did she feel the warm night air all around her. She remembered Claptrap’s strong metallic smell, but she could not smell it now, and the dust that covered Pandora like a smog cloud no longer left a gritty taste in her mouth. </p><p>She was a ghost, literally, haunting a place she should have been long gone from. </p><p>No. Not a place she should have been gone from. A place she was <em>taken </em>from. A world that was denied to her, a child too young to speak up and advocate for herself. She should have had a whole life ahead of her. She should have been here in flesh and blood. She should have been… </p><p>“Hey! Are you okay, pal?” </p><p>Claptrap’s question made her realize she had stopped dancing. Her fists had clenched again, and she could hear the tiny cooling fan inside her hoverdisc kick on in an attempt to prevent an internal meltdown. </p><p>Sparkles of light drifted from her digital face. She tried to respond, but her head was too full of thoughts and emotions–a dozen processes all vying for her precious CPU. Instead of speech, all she could manage was to sink to the ground, hug her knees, and let the tears flow. </p><p>Claptrap could be clueless at times, but she knew the little robot understood how she was feeling then. “Are we being sad now?” he asked. He was already pulling his wheel in to “sit” down beside her. “That’s one thing I’m actually good at.” </p><p>Even though she couldn’t feel him, Angel wrapped her arms around Claptrap and “hugged” him tight. Claptrap remained huddled beside her. </p><p>She was just a child when Jack ruined her life. She had been blessed by the universe with incredible, amazing, fantastical powers, and he weaponized them and turned them into a curse she’d lamented right up until her moment of death. </p><p><em> I spent my whole life hating him. </em>Now Jack was dead, and yet he still cast her entire existence in his shadow. He lived on through her anger, sorrow, and self-loathing. So long as her thoughts were dominated by him, she was not her own being. She was still his puppet. </p><p>That realization calmed her processes a bit. “Jack is dead,” she murmured. </p><p>Claptrap’s clunky internal motor whirred. “Yep.” </p><p>“We don’t have to live for him anymore. We don’t have to be sad all the time.” </p><p>“Hmm. I guess that’s true.” </p><p>Angel noticed the bars on her task manager spike, coinciding with a sudden rush of emotion. “<em> Fuck </em>Jack.” </p><p>Claptrap pressed his hands to his face in surprise, but quickly warmed to the statement. “Fuck Jack!” he declared in that ever-chipper voice of his. “Yeah! We’re living our own, Jack-free lives now!” </p><p>In spite of her anger, Angel felt a smirk lift the edges of her mouth. “We don’t need him,” she said. “We don’t need anyone.” </p><p>“Hell yeah! Claptrap and Angel against the–” </p><p>The crunch of boots on gravel cut their mini-revolution short. Both of them fell silent and retreated into Claptrap’s shack, peering out just enough to spy on whoever was passing through. </p><p>Even in the dark, it wasn’t difficult to recognize the swish of that old red trenchcoat and the uneven gait of a woman who had been mercilessly beaten not all that long ago. Angel knew from watching her all those years that Dr. Tannis normally talked to herself, but this time she was silent. </p><p>“Huh. Wonder where she’s going.” Claptrap had only one volume setting, so his voice rang out clearly in the night. Angel quickly shushed him. </p><p>Angel’s original thought had been that the doctor was looking for her, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Or if she<em> was </em>looking, she wasn’t doing so very thoroughly. No, she instead seemed focused on something else, or maybe on nothing at all. It was hard to tell. In any case, she wandered right up to the jagged edge of what used to be Sanctuary’s front gates when it was on the ground, and dropped gracelessly to the dirty ground, casting her legs over the edge like two fishing lures. </p><p><em> What is she doing?</em> In spite of her hesitation to reveal herself after being sent away, Angel found herself drifting out toward the street a little more. The doctor did not seem like she was going to jump or fall off the edge at least, so that was something. She’d watched Tannis sleepwalk enough times to know that was a genuine concern. </p><p>Closer inspection revealed Tannis had something in her right hand. From over the shoulder it was difficult to make out, but it glinted in the moonlight, indicating it was some kind of metal. </p><p>If Angel was being honest with herself, one of the reasons she initially hadn’t minded her role as Jack’s planet-wide eyes and ears was because she was nosy as hell. She loved nothing more than knowing things, especially about people. It was the only way she ever felt connected to others. </p><p>Hoping the whirr of her internal fans wouldn’t draw too much attention, she dissolved her hologram form and brought herself out into the street. Claptrap was visibly tempted to follow, but thankfully he must have thought better of it, for he simply hung back and waited instead. </p><p>Tannis rested the side of her head against the wall of the tower that once stood guard against Jack’s relentless Hyperion forces. She turned the unidentified Thing over in her hand, but paid it little mind otherwise. Angel tried to slip in closer, but suddenly Tannis sat up straight. By the time she turned around to glance behind her, Angel had hidden herself behind a trash can. </p><p>Whatever the thing was, it was quickly tucked into the breast pocket of Tannis’ coat. She continued to gaze out into the darkness of night, her expression unreadable as always. Angel merely watched from a distance. </p><hr/><p>The first moment of true liberation Tannis could remember was the day she locked herself in the bathroom with a pair of scissors and lopped all her hair off. Her mother had pounded uselessly at the door, stinging young Patty’s ears with her shrieks. In spite of her mother’s reaction–or perhaps <em>because </em>of it–Tannis had pointedly snipped off every last lock of her wavy, cowlick-ridden mane, watching with great interest as it scattered all over the old tile floor by her feet.  </p><p>Her long hair had been torturous for years–she hated the feel of brushing it, which meant it was always full of knots. Every trip to the hair salon meant hours of crying and fighting the hairdresser as they yanked at her sensitive scalp and tore through the knots with a fine-toothed comb, audibly frustrated with the twelve-year-old who was less cooperative than the toddlers in the other chairs. </p><p>The day she chopped her hair off was, to her, a day of liberation. To her mother, it was an unforgivable insult. </p><p>Tannis’ father had come home from work that day to find Tannis hugging her knees under the kitchen table while her mother cried and demanded to know why she had done what she’d done. Unable to produce any response, Tannis had simply run to her father instead, burying her face in his chest and grabbing up two fistfuls of the soft lambskin coat he always wore to comfort herself with the familiar texture. He immediately ran his hand, with the soft, unblemished fingers of an intellectual, through her choppy new haircut, and let out a little chuckle. His deep voice had rumbled in his chest as he said, <em>“</em><em>Let’s clean that up a little.” </em> </p><p>Her own fingers, ruined by years of scrounging like a rat through the dirt and rust of Pandora, combed through her greasy nest of hair as she stared down at the blueprints on her lap. Her mother had refused to let her follow her own path. She’d had a course mapped out for her daughter from birth, like a star chart. The rare times Patty made eye contact with her over the years, she would unfailingly catch sight of the deep sorrow behind her mother’s eyes. Just by existing the way she was, Tannis had already failed her. </p><p>Her father, whose unquenchable thirst for knowledge she had inherited at a 1:1 ratio, knew how to guide without leading. He did not take his daughter’s hand and drag her along a pre-determined path, but instead simply listened to her obsessive ramblings, and fixed her horrible haircuts, and left books lying around for her to swipe and hoard.  </p><p>When she left for Pandora, Tannis thought of bringing only the necessities. It wasn’t until she arrived and unpacked that she noticed the creature comforts that had somehow appeared amidst her belongings–tea bags, sunscreen, an impeccably-rolled blanket, and simple but comfortable brown slippers that she still wore into modern day. Inside the blanket, she’d also found a thin silver chain with the common five-pointed simplification of a star dangling from it. On the back was engraved a message so fine it was barely visible on the tiny charm–“Per aspera ad astra.” <em>Through hardships, to the stars. </em> </p><p>They hadn’t spoken in over seven years now. She sometimes thought of reaching out to him through the interplanetary post, but what was there to say?<em> Greetings, father! You’ll be pleased to know I’ve turned the entire Tannis name into a </em><em>joke</em><em>, </em><em>and </em><em>that </em><em>I’ve been surviving by </em><em>eating</em><em> bugs and </em><em>obtaining supplies </em><em>from bandits</em><em>in exchange for my </em><em>underwear. </em></p><p>No. Unlike her mother, her father knew when to let go. She would do the same. For both him and… </p><p>She rested her dirt-stained palm on the marked-up blue paper. Her mind could not reconcile the concept of a father shackling his daughter and locking her away like a princess in a fairytale. Her mother might have done such a thing, but fathers were supposed to push you to achieve your goals. Their love was supposed to be just a<em> little </em>bit distant–not felt through fourteen inches of bulletproof glass. </p><p>Tannis slipped the necklace out from her coat pocket again. She was not a jewelry person, and her father knew that. The chain was clearly too frail to support the charm hanging from it. Were she to actually put it on, it would be broken in a matter of hours. </p><p>He knew her. He knew she would never wear it. </p><p>What must it be like to have parental instincts? she wondered. Any fool with (or even without) functioning reproductive organs could bring life into this ridiculous, senseless world. To connect with it, nurture it, and care for it, though…did the average parent simply know what to do right from the start? Was it epigenetic? Or trial and error (which would explain the large amount of dysfunctional adults in existence)? How did even skags know how to care for their vulnerable young progeny better than she did? </p><p>That look in the girl’s eyes had haunted her all night. All she could see in those sad blue oceans was the same disappointment her mother had cast upon Tannis until the day she’d died. No, even beyond the point of death, since Tannis had pried open her eyelids at the funeral out of morbid curiosity.  </p><p>She would rather be told outright that someone hated her than affixed with that vague, unreadable stare of dismay. </p><p>That now-familiar ice water feeling crept up her arm. Even beneath the thick sleeves of her coat, she could see a hint of blue light. And, of course, she could sense something. </p><p>“Have you forgotten the capabilities of your own powers?” she asked aloud. “Sensing nearby currents?” </p><p>The tiniest <em>whirr</em> accompanied the small, round chassis of Angel’s physical body as it emerged from behind an overflowing garbage bin. She did not activate the hologram projector, leaving herself as nothing but a faceless, palm-sized machine. </p><p>Her resolution to be more like her father was instantly failed as Tannis crawled over and picked her up. “Why are you hanging out in the trash?” Angel could not visibly react in that form, but the question caused a dip in her ever-shifting CPU. “You’re supposed to be out enjoying your second life.” </p><p>The hologram projector light flickered on. In place of her normal, full size, a miniature replica of Angel materialized in Tannis’ hand. She sat down on top of her hoverdisc and dangled her legs over the edge. </p><p>Tannis squinted at her. “Why did you scale down your image?” </p><p>“I don’t want people to see me.” </p><p>“Ah. Sensible.” </p><p>Even miniaturized, Angel’s single visible eye was full of its usual sadness.  </p><p>“Are you not enjoying yourself?” The question felt foolish even to Tannis’ own inept social receptors.  </p><p>“I am. I was hanging out with Claptrap.” </p><p>Her question answered, she had no need to continue speaking. Yet as she stared down at the dejected teenage hologram, Patty felt words tumble from her lips anyway. </p><p>“Okay. I mean…that’s…good.” </p><p>Angel folded her arms and looked away. “Yep.” </p><p>“Have you noticed any errors or glitches in your programming?” </p><p>“No. I’m running pretty smoothly, I think.” </p><p>“Excellent.” </p><p>Something was clearly amiss with the girl, but Tannis lacked the interpersonal know-how to dig deeper. She had already asked if something was wrong, and had received an answer. The next step would be to accuse Angel of lying, which, going by her previous social encounters with others, did not typically yield a positive outcome. </p><p>Angel got to her feet, her hoverdisc base lifting itself out of Tannis’ hands. “Well…bye.”  </p><p>“Oh, you’re leaving?” Tannis’ hands remained open in front of her, even though they were now empty. </p><p>Angel hesitated. When she turned around, that sad eye churned Tannis’ stomach. “Did you want me to stay, Doctor?” </p><p>“I have no preference.” The minute the answer was out of her mouth, she knew she’d failed yet another conversation. Angel shrank down even smaller, until she was barely visible.  </p><p>“Then I won’t stay. It’s fine. I still appreciate you making me.” </p><p>Tannis watched as her creation drifted over to where that dingy Claptrap unit had taken up residence at the edge of the city. Claptrap was waiting for her, waving a rusty arm as she approached.  </p><p><em> See? </em>  Tannis told herself. <em>You’re nothing like </em><em>your mother. You’re letting her live her own life. </em> </p><p>So why did she still feel bad? </p><p>Angel grew herself back to full size when she met Claptrap. Immediately the sadness weighing down her young face was eased in the presence of her friend. They disappeared inside the hole in the wall of the run-down building Claptrap had decorated with old bedsheets and trash, the old robot chattering away as usual. </p><p>All Tannis could think of in that moment was the laughter of the children in the library as she shut herself away from them.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Interlude: Parenting Drives Tannis to (Sort of) Drink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a quick little scene I wanted to include but didn't feel like it matched the tone of the chapter before or after it. Next (full-length) chapter will be along shortly!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One only patronized Moxxi’s bar for two reasons–either to ogle its namesake, or to attempt to run from one’s poor life decisions. There was a statistically significant overlap between the two as well, as evidenced by the scarred and filthy crowds gathered at the counter. </p>
<p>Despite the unwashed horny masses yearning for the bartender’s attention, this was the quietest Tannis had ever seen the bar. Probably because it was morning. And also because she rarely ever ventured into the bar in the first place. </p>
<p>With her eyes trained down upon the scratched wood counter, she barely noticed a glass clink down in front of her. She might not have noticed at all, were it not for the breasts practically giving her a hello kiss in the process.  </p>
<p>“You know I don’t partake in that sort of thing.” Tannis pushed the drink away, ignoring the intruding cleavage. “Alcohol is a pointless inhibitor of the mind.” </p>
<p>As usual, Moxxi was unfazed by her prickly response. “It’s virgin. You think I don’t know you by now, Doc?” </p>
<p>With a sigh, Tannis pulled the drink in and gave it a sniff. It was a dainty pink liquid that smelled of strawberries – possibly because of the strawberry sliced nearly in half on the edge of the glass. It was also frosty cold, which <em>would</em> be a nice relief in the already-atrocious morning heat.  </p>
<p>With great hesitation, Tannis leaned in and took a small sip from the thin little cocktail straw. As to be expected from Moxxi, it was delicious, and lacked the foul aftertaste of alcohol. She had been truthful in her claim. </p>
<p>“You know, if you keep frowning like that you’re gonna wrinkle up that pretty face of yours.” Moxxi seemed to enjoy toying with Tannis, or perhaps genuinely flirting. It was something Patty was unaccustomed to, having spent most of her life as the nerd in oversized clothing that nobody looked twice at. She didn’t entirely mind the attention. A woman like Moxxi would never have paid her any mind on her home planet. </p>
<p>“I’m pushing forty, which is approximately ninety in Pandoran years. Wrinkles are hardly my primary concern.” Had she mentioned flirting was not her strong suit? At least not when it came to living, breathing people. She had quite a way with furniture. </p>
<p>When she made brief eye contact with Moxxi, the other woman was wearing that devious little smirk she only wore around certain people. Most others got the generic showgirl smile. “Well, if<em> you’re </em>ninety, then I must be some kind of living legend, sugar.” </p>
<p>“I would say so. You do seem to be quite...renowned.”  </p>
<p>Moxxi chuckled. “With the riff raff, maybe.” </p>
<p>The prolonged interaction was making her stomach churn. Tannis took a long, drawn-out sip of her drink in hopes that Moxxi would go away. She did not. </p>
<p>“Oh, this conversation is over,” Tannis eventually volunteered, waving her off with a grandiose sweep of the arm. “Please resume your normal barkeeping activities.” </p>
<p>Moxxi plucked a glass off the rack behind her and started drying it with a rag. Her gaze continued to pierce right through Tannis’ wimpy exterior. Tannis tried to ignore the rising bile in the back of her esophagus. </p>
<p>“Patty...” The clink of the dry glass as Moxxi put it away again made Tannis jump. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here or not?” </p>
<p>“Why? I–I don’t have any particular reason. I enjoy the...atmosphere?” She hoped Moxxi didn’t notice the bead of sweat forming at her hair line. </p>
<p>“A loud and sweaty crowd of drunks?” Even as Moxxi spoke, two men at the other end of the bar were escalating into an argument. Moxxi spared them only a momentary glance. “Hmm. That doesn’t seem quite right for you.” </p>
<p>Tannis let out an exasperated breath. “Is this supposed to be where I impart all my troubles upon you, the bartender? Even though I lack intoxication as an excuse?” </p>
<p>Moxxi’s devilish smile returned. “We can blame it on the drink. I won’t tell.” </p>
<p>Guilt was such a strange concept. Why was it eased by telling random, uninvolved people about your various blunders?<em> Being human makes no sense sometimes. I should have been born a Saurian. </em></p>
<p>“I’ve made questionable decisions in the past,” Tannis eventually said, “and I...continue to do so.” </p>
<p>“Well <em>that </em>narrows it down.” They may as well have been alone in the bar. Moxxi was paying zero attention to anyone else. “Now you’ve got me curious, Doc. What’s goin’ on?” </p>
<p>Moxxi’s voice had lost all of its practiced sultry smoothness. Her interrogation of Tannis was closer to the way one might be grilled by their concerned mother. </p>
<p>Of course, that thought got her stomach twisting up again.  </p>
<p>There was no way she could disclose the full truth of her secret to Moxxi. Moxxi had been intimately involved with Handsome Jack, and therefore must surely have known Angel. With all the resentment the woman held for him nowadays, how could Tannis just boldly tell her she’d resuscitated his bloodline?  </p>
<p>Angel was so much more than that. But few had ever gotten the chance to see her as anything but Jack’s siren servant.  </p>
<p>“I have to go.” In an instant, Tannis swiped her messenger bag off the adjacent empty barstool and attempted to hurry off. Her strap was apparently caught around the stool’s single leg–she was yanked backward by the taut leather, and would definitely have knocked the heavy stool right over if Moxxi hadn’t had them glued to the floor after someone who was definitely not Tannis had stolen two of them.  </p>
<p>As quickly as she’d hopped up, Tannis unlooped the bag from the stool and jogged out the door, leaving Moxxi staring after her. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. She Talks to Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The old DAHL mineshaft was littered with the remains of exploded electronics, victims of Tannis’ practice sessions. Each and every one of them weighed on her. They’d all had a voice –not a hallucinated humanoid one, but one that spoke in the language of electrical current, strange and snappy and full of words a human could barely understand. In their own way, they were all alive.</p><p>Her left arm tingled as she raised it outward and aimed her palm at a scavenged old radio. The radio knobs began to turn. It tuned to a station playing some sort of braindead country rock. Trying not to gag, she turned it back off.</p><p>There was no scientific explanation for how siren powers worked. Perhaps the technopathy part could be explained somehow –maybe the siren generated some peculiar magnetic pull or something that affected electronics around her–but the method of transference could not be explained by the laws of science. Angel, in death, when her consciousness should have been destroyed, was somehow able to choose a new person to transfer her powers to. The powers were not transferred by touch, or even by proximity exposure. If they were, they would have jumped to the nearest non-siren female present at Angel’s death, which was that odd teenage girl with the robot companion.</p><p>When asked about it, Angel had told Tannis she didn’t really remember anything about the decision-making process. It seemed as though it had not been so much a conscious choice as a sort of manifestation of a deep-rooted feeling. A desire to atone for her father’s atrocities. Or...maybe some sense of kinship.</p><p>Or maybe the lack of memory was because Angel 2.0 was a backup from before the original’s death. That was the most logically sound conclusion.</p><p>She’d never been looked up to by a young person before. It was novel, if a bit stressful.</p><p>The radio began to play again, glowing blue knobs spinning randomly about to deliver a static mess of a song medley. Tannis closed her fingers into a fist. The radio exploded into a hundred sparking pieces.</p><p>These powers made no sense. Their abilities could not be measured or defined in any reliable way, as they seemed intrinsically linked to the siren’s emotional state. And emotions were, as always, a source of unpredictable vexation to her.</p><p><em>Why did you choose me? </em>For the thousandth time, she turned her arm over and examined the intricate blue markings. She could have given them to anyone. That robot-building teenage anarchist would have had great use for manipulating technology with her mind. Or what about Moxxi’s daughter, that disturbingly-social vehicular savant whose name Tannis had never bothered to commit to memory? Surely she could have derived some enjoyment from driving over bandits with a mind-controlled light runner.</p><p>“I will never understand your choice, Angel.” As she murmured those words, the old television atop her scrap pile crackled to life. Tannis’ arm similarly ignited, a flood of blue light in the dark mineshaft.</p><p>Tannis gritted her teeth. “No, I simply don’t understand this at all.” This time when she clenched her fist, the TV did not explode – instead it shifted from noisy static to a silent, solid blue screen. “And I don’t know why I revived you. We have no connection but the arbitrary one you created between us when you threw my life into chaos.”</p><p>The blinding blue screen began to ripple like the surface of a puddle. Likewise, the light from Tannis’ left arm started to pulse, shifting from bright to dim and back again like some sort of elaborate Mercenary Day decoration.</p><p>Sliding down against the wall, Tannis entangled her fingers into her hair and drew her knees up to her chest. “I really…” Her jaw felt locked in place, the sensation that always came before she lost her ability to speak. “…I really…hate…when things don’t make sense.”</p><p>The quiet hum of the television grew defeating as she curled up against the wall, trying in vain yet again to rationalize the irrationality of siren magic, and what it meant for her already-weak grasp on the logic of the universe.</p><hr/><p>Living on the outskirts of society turned out not to be too different from observing it through satellite cameras. When she was with Claptrap, the two of them might as well have been invisible–people averted their eyes, altered their paths, and ignored Claptrap’s every enthusiastic greeting. With her processing core perched atop his flat head, Angel saw through his eyes just how cold the world around them could be, even within a so-called Sanctuary.</p><p>It was hard not to get angry. Multiple times she just barely resisted the urge to pop out of her little core like some sort of digital poltergeist and start yelling at people for being so mean. Sometimes the depth of her own anger, not just for Claptrap’s mistreatment, but in general, frightened her a little. It was marginally better than being sad, but when anger consumed her she could sometimes feel herself channeling her father’s destructive urges. The thoughts in her own head would sicken her. <em>These people are so cruel. How can they consider themselves good guys?</em></p><p>At night, she would get herself up onto the high wall that guarded Sanctuary and gaze down upon its streets with her all-seeing digital eyes. Elpis’ reflected light shone through her translucent body as she sat with her legs crossed, feeling, for the millionth time since her revival, like a ghost.</p><p>It didn’t matter if these people weren’t the nicest. They didn’t deserve to die because of it. That deeply-held resolve of hers was what separated her from Jack. Or so she told herself.</p><p>No matter what kind of situations she observed in the world, she would <em>never</em> allow herself to turn into her father. That was the only solid goal she had in this new life of hers.</p><p>She cast a glance up at the night sky, full of twinkling lights both natural and artificial. Pausing to make sure no one was around, she called out in a faint voice, “Mom?”</p><p>Of course, just like all the other times she’d done that, there was no reply. Just the stars, living out their own lonely existences a million miles away.</p><p>It had been so long since her death that Angel barely even remembered what her mother looked like. Jack, in his suffocating rage, had destroyed every picture and portrait of her. She liked to imagine they had the same wide, curious eyes, and the same thick, unruly hair, and maybe even the same ghostly pale skin, though she kind of doubted that, and was pretty sure the paleness was a result of being hidden from the sun for eleven years.</p><p>“I miss you.” If only Angel 2.0 had been a truly fresh start, with no memories at all. No lingering pain from her life before.</p><p>It wasn’t an impossible wish. She knew enough about computers that she could probably tinker with her own hard drive and corrupt or overwrite the stored memories. She could start over, with no knowledge of her father or her mother or of anything that presently haunted her. It would be the true end of the reign of Handsome Jack. It would be total freedom from the shackles of her past trauma.</p><p>But she would lose good things, too. Her memories with Claptrap. The fun she’d had helping Lilith and her friends open the first Vault. The fact that someone had cared enough about her to bring her back to life, even if it was just for the information she could provide.</p><p>“I wish I could ask you,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to her lap. Her CPU was spiking again, unable to handle the stress of human emotion. Angel squeezed her eyes shut. “Mom…”</p><p>When finally she reopened her eyes, her processor was going haywire. That wasn’t the most shocking thing, though–no, that title currently belonged to her left arm, where a swirl of snaking white lines had taken up a familiar position on her flesh, and was currently lighting up the night like a neon sign.</p><p>Her vision started to blur, like the frame rate of the world around her was dropping. Angel staggered backward. With the lag she was experiencing, she could only guess where she was moving with her clunky little disc, and with her stuttering vision, she could just barely make out a new, glowing blue line spiking up on her task manager.</p><p><em>What the-? </em>Misjudging her “steps”, Angel toppled off the wall and landed with a <em>clank </em>in a pile of scrap metal by the front gate. Sputtering a few sparks, her hologram form thankfully reconstructed itself without error…</p><p>But her arm was still covered in glowing swirls and lines.</p><p><em>But I…I’m not a siren anymore. </em>With a shaking left hand, she clenched her fingers into a fist. Nothing happened around her–the bits of discarded tech in the junk pile did not come to life, nor did the power lines above her head or the fiber wires beneath her feet. Nothing happened at all.</p><p>Retreating into the depths between Sanctuary’s dingy old buildings, she allowed herself to calm down enough that her processes stabilized and her ocular frame rate steadied. Then she willed the movement of muscles she hadn’t used since just before her death.</p><p>Bathing the entire alley in light, two huge, magnificent wings emerged from her back. Just as in life, their incredible wingspan dwarfed her body, making her feel like a real angel.</p><p>Her shock and awe was interrupted by the crackle of static behind her. Pulling her wings close to her back, Angel turned to discover that the source of the static was an open dumpster. Sitting atop the garbage inside was one of those emergency crank-operated radios with a tiny television screen built-in. The crank was snapped clean off, rendering it useless…to most people.</p><p>Angel’s tattoos began to glow again as she reached her translucent blue arm out, a gesture as familiar to her as breathing. The screen, so small she could cover the whole thing with one hand, crackled to life. It was in black and white, and had a display resolution so poor she could barely make out the image…but she could make it out well enough to see the stunned face staring back at her.</p><p>She may not have been able to remember her birth mother’s face, but its place in her memory banks was filled by that of her creator. She didn’t need a color screen to know that Dr. Tannis’ eyes were a radiant green, and that her face was constantly a little pink from digging for ruins in the Pandoran sun. She wasn’t frail and waifish like how Angel pictured her birth mother. She, for all her intellectual nerdiness, was rugged. A survivor. Someone who would be sticking around this life for a good long time.</p><p>“Angel?” The name seemed a struggle for the doctor; she was seated on some rocky terrain with her knees pulled in close to her chin. Her tattoos, similar and yet noticeably different from Angel’s, were alight all down her arm.</p><p>“Dr. Tannis?” Angel leaned closer to the little screen, searching her creator for signs of injury. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“F…fine.” Her eyes fell to study her left hand. “Just practicing my powers. Your powers. Our powers?”</p><p>“Seems like it’s the last one.” Angel held up her own tattooed arm. Tannis’ eyes went wide. “I was just hanging out here when they suddenly reappeared. It doesn’t seem like I can use them much, but…”</p><p>“They appeared when I was practicing Phaseshift.” Tannis crawled closer to her own screen to study Angel, same as Angel had done to her. “That’s fascinating. You must still be connected to the powers somehow.”</p><p>“Maybe the universe is confused because I died and came back. Like…like when a file gets moved, and the computer’s still trying to read it from its old destination.” She cringed at how weird she knew that sounded, but Dr. Tannis gave a thoughtful nod.</p><p>“Yes, that does make some sense, actually. …As much sense as siren powers can make, anyway.” Tannis uncurled herself a little. “So, as far as we know, you’re a siren in appearance only. Is that correct?”</p><p>“Well, I do still have <em>these</em>…”</p><p>The moment she opened her wings back up, Dr. Tannis startled a bit. At first Angel thought she was just surprised to see them–it took her a second to realize Tannis’ own wings were unfurling in perfect sync with hers.</p><p>“What the heck?” Angel gave her wings a little flap. Tannis’ mimicked the action simultaneously, like a mirror’s reflection. “Our wings are…”</p><p>“In perfect synchronicity? It would appear so.” Tannis beat her wings a few times. Angel’s moved of their own accord to match the motions. “Angel, don’t be alarmed, but I think we may have caused some sort of glitch in the universe.”</p><p>“Uhhh.” She’d never heard of such a thing being possible, but they were clearly witnessing it. Somehow both of them were holding the same siren mantle at the same time. They were both The Phaseshifter.</p><p>“Well, I for one find this simply incredible!” Tannis hopped to her feet, apparently over her distress. “If the universe is going to consistently hurl nonsense at me, then by Science, I’ll give it nonsense right back! Two can play at this game of supernatural stochasticity!” Her rant was punctuated by a laugh that wouldn’t feel out of place at the end of a mad scientist’s monologue.</p><p>In spite of the weirdness they were unearthing, Angel couldn’t help letting her thoughts return to their earlier dwelling. “Dr. Tannis?” she said.</p><p>Tannis immediately went serious. “Yes?”</p><p>She hadn’t wanted to impose, but everyone else in this world was so apathetic, and even with Claptrap’s company, something was missing.</p><p>Balling her hands into fists, Angel practically shouted “I really want to hang out with you!”</p><p>Tannis looked as though she were likely to topple over at that statement. “You–you want to ‘hang out’? With <em>me</em>?”</p><p>Angel gave a quick but impassioned nod.</p><p>Tannis stared blankly at her. “You realize no one has ever said that to me before, right? As in literally not ever.”</p><p>“Their loss. I think you’re cool.”</p><p>Tannis pursed her lips. “You know, sometimes I think you turned out surprisingly well-adjusted considering you spent most of your formative years in an underground fishbowl. Then you go and say things like that.”</p><p>Had anyone else said such a thing to her, Angel probably would have burst into tears. When Tannis said it, it was spoken with genuine concern in her voice. It was equal parts sweet and sad.</p><p>“I suppose we could ‘hang out’,” Tannis continued. The phrase was spoken like a foreign language, and accompanied by an uncertain gesturing of her hands. “But you’re going to have to walk me through it. I haven’t a clue about that sort of thing.”</p><p>“You think I do?” Angel rubbed the back of her neck. “I’ve never hung out with anybody, either. Unless you count spying on people via satellite while they hang out with other people.”</p><p>Tannis shrugged. “Still more experience than I possess.”</p><p>She’d expected resistance from the woman. Patricia Tannis was notoriously antisocial, almost to the point of parody. Maybe she really <em>did</em> care beyond simply getting information out of Angel.</p><p>Downplaying her excitement, Angel folded her wings in and said, “So maybe I can, like, come over to your lab tomorrow? Or something?”</p><p>Tannis visibly hesitated. Angel’s digital heart twinged.</p><p>“Very well,” she finally said. “I suppose you can come by whenever you’d like. But I’m not going to parent you. So don’t expect that.”</p><p>“Um, okay. I won’t.”</p><p>“Good.” Tannis fumbled with the satchel she always carried, closing it up. “So…I shall see you later, then.”</p><p>“‘Kay. Bye.”</p><p>It took Tannis a good couple of minutes to figure out how to end the strange connection they’d established between two broken TVs.   Angel watched, trying not to smirk as Tannis fiddled with it and mumbled to herself about feeling old and out-of-touch. She probably could have talked the Doctor through disconnecting her powers from electronic devices, but that would have ended their connection sooner, and then Angel wouldn’t have gotten the authentic watching-your-parent-struggle-with-technology experience. And who wanted to miss that?</p><p>When the screen finally went black, Angel hurried back to Claptrap’s place, eager to update him and to await the morning.</p><hr/><p><em>It really isn’t a big deal. </em>Patty idly twisted the knob on one of her microscopes. It wasn’t viewing anything at the moment. <em>So you revived Handsome Jack’s daughter, apparently still with some degree of her siren power, and now she wants to socialize and “hang out” with you. Not a big deal at all. </em></p><p>The waiting bucket by her feet said otherwise.</p><p>What did teenage girls like to do? Gossip? Perform makeovers? Talk about boys? What about teenage girls who spent most of their lives as living Eridium conductors?</p><p><em>Dr. Tannis? </em>A quiet voice with a hint of mechanization, like an old doll, wove shyly through the silence of her lab. <em>Can I come in?</em></p><p>Viewing Angel as a project, as a product, had kept Patty from vomiting in her presence. No need to get anxious around a program she herself had written, right? But when she opened the beat-up metal door of her lab and came face-to-face with the girl–not a living thing, but certainly more than just an artificial intelligence –well, their greeting was cut short.</p><p>“Oh no! Are you okay?” Angel hovered over Tannis as Tannis surrendered her partially-digested breakfast into her bucket.</p><p>Angel had already changed since her creation. As an artificial intelligence, she was meant to learn and grow adaptively, so that change was to be expected. But the way she looked at Tannis now wasn’t the doe-eyed stare she’d worn in her early stages of existence. Her gaze was…heavy. Or something. Reading facial expressions was one of Tannis’ weakest skills.</p><p>“Ugh.” Wiping a trail of acidic drool on the cuff of her coat sleeve, Tannis clambered back to her feet. “Yes, this is quite normal for me, unfortunately.”</p><p>“Maybe it’s something in the water? This place doesn’t seem the most sanitary-”</p><p>“It’s people, Angel. I’m unsure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly well-equipped to handle prolonged periods of socialization.” She stumbled toward the bathroom, eager to brush the bile off her teeth.</p><p>“But I just got here.” The blue light reflected off the walls told Tannis the girl was following her.</p><p>Ducking into her tiny bathroom, Tannis tried to concentrate on squeezing a little bit of old, crusty toothpaste onto her dingy toothbrush. The entire bathroom was bathed in that eerie electric blue light, like she was being scanned by a security beacon.</p><p>“I told you,” she said through a mouthful of toothpaste froth, “I don’t know how to ‘hang out’ with people. AI or otherwise.” She spit into the stained sink. “Honestly, I had no idea you were going to be so high-maintenance when I created you. Don’t you want to go live a life of your own?”</p><p>Angel did not respond. A quick glance her way told Tannis she was still there, though her expression had changed. As Tannis was brushing the last of the vomit off her tongue, the light flooding the bathroom shifted. The blue morphed into a sickly yellow, then a deep orange, and then a dark red. When she looked over at Angel then, the girl looked more like a demon.</p><p>“…Are you malfunctioning?” Tannis asked.</p><p>“Are <em>you?”</em> Angel’s fingers curled into fists. “Why did you convince me to stay alive if you wanted nothing to do with me?! Why didn’t you just get your information out of me and then destroy me if you didn’t want me around?!”</p><p>Tannis blinked. “Because I thought you would ultimately prefer to live?”</p><p>“Even though you don’t care if I’m here or not?”</p><p>“Precisely!”</p><p>Tannis’ left arm began to itch. The itch turned into a burn as her tattoos ignited a deep orange. Suddenly the lights overheard began to hum and flicker, and all the monitors on her laboratory wall started displaying random zigzags of angry colors.</p><p>“You’re the worst!” Angel’s irises were ablaze with red light, a far cry from her usual gentle blue. “How can you create a life and then just toss it out without caring what happens to it? Even my dad was at least trying to keep me safe in his own messed-up way!”</p><p>Tannis felt the last of her stomach bile rise up in her throat. “You’re upset,” was all she could think to say.</p><p>“Everybody here is awful!” A couple bulbs overhead blew out, showering them with sparks. The electrical interference caused Angel’s image to flicker and distort. “Everyone’s mean to Claptrap even though he’s nothing but nice to all of you. And I thought you were different, but you’re not!” Her image went fuzzy as she curled up into herself. “Maybe my dad had a point hating you guys.”</p><p>Resisting the urge to be irritated by the girl’s noisy outburst, Tannis willed herself to find some patience and to speak only once she had thought of a response that wouldn’t make things even worse. Was Angel really this upset about Tannis’ reluctance to socialize with her? Could she not find a hundred other beings to interact with? Was Claptrap not available?</p><p><em>Patty. </em>The voice in her head, though of course originating from her own mind, took on the gentle timber of her father. Suddenly he was standing in front of her, an obvious hallucination, yet real enough to her to invoke an emotional reaction. His sure and steady hand combed through her mess of hair. <em>Don’t be like that. She needs you.</em></p><p><em>She does not. And how would you know, anyway? You don’t even know Angel. </em>Tannis flinched away from his nonexistent touch. <em>I’m a grown woman. So is she, more or less.</em></p><p>Through her imaginary father, she could still see Angel curled up into herself like a small child. Maybe she <em>was</em> nearly an adult, but, much like Patty herself at that age, she clearly wasn’t at the same milestones as the average eighteen-year-old. For every step the average person made, the Patties and Angels of the world had to exert at least double the effort to reach the same point. That was the cost of living in a world that demanded conformity while providing no guide on how to attain such a state.</p><p><em>I didn’t mean to make her cry. </em>It was true, sometimes even Tannis herself realized her words were sharp and hurtful, perhaps rooted in some deep-set anger at the “normal” world. But Angel was far from normal. She didn’t deserve one bit of that anger.</p><p>Tannis’ tattoos shifted again, regaining their normal blue hue. The image of her father faded in her mind as she lifted that arm and glanced over at Angel. The girl’s tattoos, she noticed for the first time, were not identical to Tannis’. In fact, she realized as she stepped closer, the lines and circles complemented one another, as though cut from the same piece of cloth. Were the designs to be put together, they would overlay perfectly to form one solid design.</p><p>She thought of all the times her own mother had made her cry. Had left her curled up by herself because she didn’t know how to deal with having a “weird” child. That wasn’t who she wanted to be. That wasn’t what a girl who’d endured a lifetime of abuse deserved.</p><p>Swallowing down the bile in her throat, Tannis watched as her siren energy flowed down her arm and into her hand. Clasping her palms together, both hands were soon enveloped in warm blue light.</p><p>She wasn’t sure if it would even work, let alone if she’d be able to handle it. But when Tannis put her hands on Angel’s shoulders and drew her in for the rustiest hug anyone had probably ever received, she felt the girl as solidly as any creature of flesh and bone.</p><p>At first Angel tensed. There was a moment where it seemed she would pull away, but that resistance collapsed as quickly as it arose, and she grabbed Tannis right back, clinging to her like a Rakk to a Rakk Hive.</p><p>“I don’t mean to be cruel,” Tannis whispered. “I genuinely have no experience with this sort of thing. I thought letting you live your own life was what was best for you. And…maybe I was trying to avoid any responsibility for you as well.”</p><p>Angel did not respond. Her face was buried against the leather of Tannis’ coat, as Patty herself had done so often with her father over the years.</p><p>“Am I correct in theorizing it’s been a long time since you were hugged by anyone?” Tannis asked.</p><p>Her face still concealed, Angel nodded.</p><p>“Ah. Same. Although in my case, it’s been a deliberate avoidance.” Making contact with the being of pure light was taking a toll on her powers, but Tannis wanted to try one more thing before ending their contact. She brought one hand up and pushed it awkwardly through Angel’s half-head of hair. The gesture briefly revealed Angel’s covered left eye. Her irises, Tannis noticed, had morphed back to blue. They were followed soon after by her hair, then her face, then gradually the rest of her body.</p><p>“I do care, Angel.” It took everything she had to speak so candidly. “I just–I have <em>no </em>experience with this. None. My own mother was…distant, at best, and…”</p><p>Angel continued to hold onto her. In a tiny voice, she said “I’m sorry. I don’t like getting mad at people.”</p><p>“Your anger is valid. I can be infuriating at times, I’ll acknowledge that.”</p><p>Tannis’ hands went dim as the small amount of energy she’d learned to channel fizzled out. Once again, Angel returned to an intangible hologram. She drifted back from Tannis, though she remained a tranquil shade of blue.</p><p>“My anger scares me,” Angel said. “I’m afraid I’ll end up like my dad. He could get so mad…it was terrifying.”</p><p>“Angel, you are nothing like Jack! Well, aside from sharing about fifty percent of his genetic material.” Tannis shrugged. “Then again, every human is about 99.5% genetically similar to every other human in the universe. So that doesn’t mean too much in the grand scheme of things.”</p><p>Angel settled herself into one of Tannis’ empty chairs. “He was all I had for most of my life. He taught me right from wrong, that he was a hero trying to protect everyone. That I was his trusty sidekick, helping him keep one step ahead of ‘the bad guys’.” She studied the microscope Tannis had been fiddling with earlier. “When I first started to realize <em>he</em> was the bad one…it flipped my whole world on its head. And my world was never very big to begin with. So now I don’t know who’s good and who’s bad. I don’t trust my own judgment.”</p><p>Tannis sat down beside her. Neither made eye contact with the other, which Tannis was infinitely grateful for. “It isn’t quite so simple, really. I tend to try to categorize things in a similar way–either A or B, never in-between. But humans are complicated and messy. They rarely fit neatly into such categories.” Noticing Angel’s stare was still on the microscope, Tannis adjusted the knob back to its optimal focus for the attached slide, then gestured for Angel to take a look through it. Angel hesitantly obliged.</p><p>“What are these?” she asked as she leaned in closer. “Some kind of cells?”</p><p>“They’re <em>your </em>cells!” Tannis adjusted the slide’s placement just a bit, bringing them better into alignment with the lens. “I hypothesized that if I could get to know you at the molecular level, perhaps it would give me a leg up on understanding and interacting with you. I was essentially studying for our hangout.”</p><p>Angel pulled her face away from the microscope. “That’s…really sweet, Doctor.” She returned her gaze to the device a moment later. “Where did you get a cell sample from my body?”</p><p>“Oh, I scraped it myself! When Lilith and the others brought you back here, I snuck in and-”</p><p>“They…brought me with them?” Angel’s focus was back on Tannis. Patty tried not to gag at the direct attention.</p><p>“Yes, they did. Lilith was preoccupied with Roland. It was actually Maya who refused to leave you. She was the reason you came back with the Crimson Raiders when they returned to Sanctuary.” Even for someone as emotionally-aloof as herself, Tannis could still vividly recall the image of Lilith, Axton and Zer0 struggling to heft Roland into the Raider HQ, while beside them Maya carried Angel’s emaciated body with ease, as though it weighed nothing at all. It had stuck with Tannis in a way few things on this hell-planet managed to anymore.</p><p>It took Angel some time to answer that. When she finally spoke again, it was to ask, “Where am I now?”</p><p>Tannis deliberated being truthful or telling a merciful lie. Opting to just be honest, she replied, “Well, we wanted to study the physiological effects of your…Eridium addiction…and I was interested in studying you at the cellular level, so I took some samples…”</p><p>“You guys dissected me, didn’t you.”</p><p>Tannis turned her palms upward in a gesture of concession. “If it makes you feel better, everything that wasn’t used for scientific study was cremated and sprinkled around the outskirts of Sanctuary. I believe it was out of some superstitious hope that you would help keep the town safe from your father.” Tannis glanced over her own tattoos. “And those who don’t subscribe to such nonsense felt that you had at least earned a place in Sanctuary.”</p><p>Angel stayed quiet after that. Her hard drive was whirring away, probably writing that story to its permanent memory. Tannis’ first urge was to get up and leave, to get away from the interaction, but she forced herself to stay.</p><p>“So…” The word was spoken so clumsily it almost sounded more like a cleared throat.</p><p>Angel looked up from the table she’d been staring blankly down at. “Huh?”</p><p>It took everything Tannis had in her not to a) throw up, b) run for the door, or c) both of the above, which would have made for a very messy getaway.</p><p>“…What is…” She swallowed, and forced the words out. “What’s something…you’ve always wanted to do?”</p><p>Angel stared at her. Her processes were running amok, trying to load a response before Tannis inevitably ran off, fainted, or spontaneously combusted.</p><p>“Well…I…” She wrung her hands, seemingly strained for an answer. Or perhaps an answer that wouldn’t be met with screams of horror. “I have a list, actually.”</p><p>Tannis remained stick-straight in her chair. “A list. Yes, w-wonderful. Probably not a very long list, right?”</p><p>Suddenly Tannis’ arm was lighting up again. Angel thrust her palm out toward the nearest computer with a powered-on monitor. “Executing Phase…Bucket List!”</p><p>In an instant, dozens of lines of text were materializing on the screen. Tannis balked as more and more bullet points appeared, the keys of her keyboard clacking away all on their own. She barely had time to even read any of the items before they disappeared off the screen, replaced by a dozen more entries.</p><p>“I’m so glad I can sort of still use my powers!” Angel giggled as she closed her fist. The typing, thank every force of nature in the universe, finally stopped. “This is organized by priority. Also, I wrote most of these before I died, so some of them won’t be possible.” She frowned. “I never did get to try a skag dog.”</p><p>“You aren’t missing out, trust me.”</p><p>With another pulse of light from Tannis’ tattoos, her printer was shooting out a stack of a dozen papers. Angel flew over to it, pointing down at the stack. With a sigh she hoped was subtle, Tannis got to her feet and collected the papers, some in the printer tray, most on the floor. Thankfully they were numbered.</p><p>“All right, now where’s page one on this…” After shuffling through the stack, finally she came across one with a title. <strong>Angel’s List :D</strong>, it read in bold letters. Beneath that title began the long, long list of entries to Angel’s “bucket list”.</p><p>Looking at the very first one, Tannis clenched her jaw.</p><p>“Do you think that might be doable?” Angel’s excitement was palpable, but she hung back a little, as if expecting Tannis’ inevitable rejection. “I mean, I know you get really bad social anxiety, so we totally don’t have to, but-”</p><p><em>Be nice to her, Patty. </em>Her father’s voice resounded again. <em>Be gentle. I know you have it in you.</em></p><p>Eyeing her bucket, Tannis inched closer to it. “No, it’s…fine. We can do this. I can do this. It will be…fun.” The last word fell out of her mouth like a rock.</p><p>Angel’s eyes flicked over to the bucket. “Are you sure? Because I could just go with Claptrap…”</p><p>“No, no. I–I insist.” Thank goodness she had nothing left in her stomach to regurgitate. “Sign me up, or…whatever.”</p><p>Angel lit up so bright Patty had to shield her eyes. “This is going to be incredible! Can I buy the tickets, then?”</p><p>“Yes, of course. Go ahead.” She nodded, wearing a plastered-on smile. “I have some credits on my old DAHL employee card that might still be valid. You can probably use that to buy them.”</p><p>“Oh, thanks, but I don’t need that. I was wired directly into Hyperion’s network for so long I memorized most of the employees’ bank numbers.” Angel was already navigating to some other website. “But just to be safe, I’ll use my Dad’s. I <em>am</em> his legal heiress, after all.”</p><p><em>I must be even more insane than I thought.</em> Tannis paced back and forth behind her as Angel bought the tickets. <em>I’m going to die. They’ll have to airlift my body out of the place.</em></p><p>The printer spat out another page. “Okay, there’s our confirmation! They’ll be sending us the tickets in 4-6 weeks!”</p><p>“Excellent. Plenty of time to…anticipate.” Tannis picked up the receipt and looked it over with pursed lips.</p><p>
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</p><p>
  <em>3-Day VIP Pass: Includes Access to All Celebrity Meet-and-Greets</em>
</p><p>“Oh my gosh, TryHardBandit is gonna be there! He’s one of my favorite ECHOtube musicians!” Angel was still searching through the list. “Oh, and The Living Fyrestone! We’ll have to go early so we can be near the front of his line!”</p><p>Tannis chewed her lip, still slightly crusty with stomach acid. <em>I guess I’ll try to enjoy my remaining few months before I perish in a Pandoran convention hall.</em></p><p>Regardless of Tannis’ own opinion on the event, Angel’s glowing excitement was hard to be upset with. She was already zipping through the lab, babbling plans that Tannis was in no shape to process. “And we’ll <em>have</em> to cosplay–I don’t have any sewing skills, but we can figure something out! And we can bring an autograph book, and maybe they’ll be selling those creepy figures with the beady black eyes! We can get some for your desk!”</p><p>“Ahem…” Tannis tapped her fingers on the desk, drawing Angel’s attention. “Perhaps we can work our way up to this extensive social torture with some, er, light warmups first?”</p><p>Angel halted. “Oh, of course!” She was back at Tannis’ side in a moment. “Please tell me if you’re uncomfortable, Doctor–I don’t want to upset you.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s far too late for that.” Tannis gave a little chuckle. “But I’m realizing I’m apparently going to have to step way…way…way out of my comfort zone to provide adequate care for you.” She tugged at a long bit of her choppy bangs. “But it’s all right. I signed on for this when I created you. Perhaps stepping out of my comfort zone is…not such a bad thing. Especially when said zone is not much larger than a circle around my own feet.”</p><p>Angel’s face was hard to read–harder than usual. “Okay,” she said. “Do you want to maybe start with going for a walk together, or something?”</p><p>“Only if it’s somewhere far from civilization.”</p><p>“Sounds good to me.”</p><p>As she was preparing to leave Sanctuary, in the process tucking Angel into her satchel to avoid annoying questions, an ancient memory floated through Tannis’ mind. She found herself sighing as she remembered conquering the crowds at her old TED talks, unfazed by the thousands of eyes upon her. The only two that mattered were her father’s, always front row and creased with wrinkles from years of smiles.</p><p>If she could flourish in front a crowd of five hundred archeology snobs, then what was a crowd of nerds who were more concerned with meeting sweaty men from ECHOtube? It was nothing. With a little practice, she could get back to that level of confidence. Someday. Maybe.</p><p>In the meantime, her priority goal was becoming comfortable with just one person.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Angel Gets A Driving Lesson, and Other Disasters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As it turned out, Tannis did not need to hone her social skills at all to hang out with Angel. She could have placed a cardboard cutout of herself in her stead and the girl probably would have talked at it just the same.  </p><p>“And then this funny music starts playing and he says, ‘What up, I’m Jared, I’m 19, and I never learned how to-” She paused, the first moment of silence on their entire walk. “Wait, are you okay with me swearing?” </p><p>The thought of the sad-eyed girl beside her cussing was an amusing one. “Sure, go ahead,” Tannis replied. </p><p>Snickering, Angel continued, “He says ‘I never learned how to FUCKING read!’”  </p><p>The punchline (if one could call it that) made no sense to Tannis, but Angel’s emphatic f-bomb earned her a chuckle, at least.  </p><p>“There are so many good ones. I’ll have to show you some when we get back!” </p><p>Angel was, in some ways, a modern version of teenage Tannis. Instead of engrossing herself in books, Angel was thoroughly embroiled in ECHOnet culture. She could quote countless videos, recite whole scenes from ECHOcasts, and explain the storied history of all the various memes she was trying to teach Tannis. Of course, like Tannis, she’d be hard-pressed to tell any stories about people she knew personally.  </p><p>While they apparently catalogued trivial information about their interests in much the same way, the actual interests bore no overlap, leaving Tannis at a loss for how to hold up her end of the conversation. Angel must have eventually realized the one-sided nature of their interaction, for she cut herself off at one point, apologized for rambling, and then went silent.  </p><p>Although Pandora was largely a desert climate, Sanctuary had been built in a snowy region near the planet’s north pole. After spending years cooped up in her arid dig site, it <em> was </em> nice not to have your clothes stuck to you all the time. Especially when you were the type of person who wore head-to-toe leather so as to minimize the sensation of all the hideous textures one was forced to touch on this planet. </p><p>“Wow.” Angel swiveled around, taking in all the empty, snowy wasteland that spanned every direction. “I saw this place through the Vault Hunters I communicated with, but in person it’s…” </p><p>“Underwhelming?” Tannis buttoned her coat to stop the piercing wind from getting in.  </p><p>“No! It’s beautiful.” She crouched down to a gently-sloped bank of snow trapped against a rock. “I wish I could touch this. I don’t even remember what snow feels like.” </p><p>“It’s cold and wet. And it makes your fingers hurt if you hold it for too long.”  </p><p>“Really? It seems so…” She swept her translucent hand through it, of course making no physical contact. “I don’t know. Does it make me sound stupid to say ‘magical’?” </p><p>Tannis fought back every natural urge to be haughty and dismissive of such a sentiment. “Magic is a term that’s been used throughout humankind’s existence to explain that which has not yet been understood scientifically,” she said instead. “Having no experience with snow, you probably don’t know all that much about it, so the conclusion of ‘magic’, if lacking in a concrete understanding of the physical properties of water, at least has a…historical precedent.” </p><p>Angel somehow possessed in one eye the staring power of most people’s two. Tannis cleared her throat, then waved her hand in an attempt to move the conversation forward. The attempt failed. </p><p>“I don’t actually believe in magic, either.” Angel stood back up. The bits of snow carried by the wind passed right through her, creating tiny flecks of disruption in her image. “Kind of funny, us being sirens and all.” </p><p>“What’s referred to as siren ‘magic’ is, again, simply a phenomenon that has yet to be explained by a concrete scientific theory. Likely because at any given time there is an impossibly small sample size to study.”  </p><p>They continued their walk in silence. Angel studied their surroundings with a keen eye, much like Tannis herself when she was new to Pandora. There was certainly a vast intelligence behind that naïve young gaze of hers. Having been rooted into the ECHOnet for years, she probably held more knowledge than any being Tannis had ever spoken to–yet she struggled to even think up a topic to engage the girl about.  </p><p>“Have you practiced flying yet?” It was Angel who finally broke their pensive silence. They’d come to a rocky ledge connected to another piece of jagged rock via nothing but a vehicular stunt ramp (typical Pandora).  </p><p>She may not have been the most socially astute person, but it wasn’t difficult to interpret Angel’s intent. “If you are implying I should fly us over this gap, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. That or smashed to pieces at the bottom of this crevasse.” </p><p>“Have you at least tried it?” Angel opened her wings, causing Tannis’ to unfurl from her back as well. “I never got to fly much, but the Central Core had a high enough ceiling that I could kinda hover. It was such a cool feeling.” </p><p>“I’m perfectly happy with both feet on the ground, thank you.” </p><p>“You’re never even going to try?” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>Angel rolled her one visible eye.  </p><p>“You really should get that hair out of your face.” Tannis had no idea where that statement bubbled up from. The second she said it, she was already mentally smacking herself. </p><p>But to Tannis’ surprise, Angel’s lips, normally locked in a perpetual light frown, turned slightly upward. “I think that’s the most parental thing you’ve said to me so far.” </p><p>“There’s nothing parental about that. You just look terrible with that hair hanging down like some sort of sad, dark curtain.”  </p><p>Angel’s smile grew just a little more perceptible. Reaching up with her tattooed hand, she cupped her thick, wavy hair and pushed it back behind her ear. The gesture revealed the other half of her face, including her other brilliant blue eye.  </p><p>Although Tannis had designed it, seeing Angel’s face exposed like that made her heart twinge. It was easy to ignore how much of a child she clearly was when half of her young face was hidden from sight, but in plain sight, there was no getting around it. She remembered the pictures taken from Hyperion’s databases of the girl growing sadder and sicker with each passing year. The bags under her eyes deepening, her skin gradually taking on a purple hue, her fingernails growing cracked and yellow. Her hair had been so much thicker in her younger years, too. </p><p>“Ah! There <em>is </em>a young lady under there, after all!” Every word out of her mouth sounded like she was channeling the ghost of her mother. Despite how much that thought revolted her, she tried not to think about it too much.  </p><p>Angel’s cheeks were glowing bright, the hologram equivalent of a blush. “I don’t know why I like my hair like that,” she admitted. “I guess it’s easier to hide under it.” </p><p>“If you were to ask me, I would suggest simply chopping it all off.” Tannis ran a hand through her own hair. “<em>Very </em>liberating.” </p><p>Angel’s eyes twinkled. “…I could do that, couldn’t I?” </p><p>“Well, it wouldn’t be so much a haircut as a cut to your code, but, yes.” </p><p>Angel combed her fingers through the beams of light that made up her hair. “I guess I can do whatever I want with my appearance now.” Then a mischievous gleam replaced the innocent sparkle in her eyes. “I could get tattoos and a Mohawk.” </p><p>Tannis gestured to her arm. “You already have tattoos.” </p><p>“I mean something cool. Like a skull. Or my favorite Scavenescence lyrics.” </p><p>“Oh no, is this the dreaded teenage rebellion phase I’ve heard talk of? I’m not ready for that yet.” </p><p>Angel wore the smug look of a cat that was about to knock something breakable off a shelf. </p><p>With no way to continue forward, Tannis adjusted her collar and prepared to turn back for Sanctuary. It was then she noticed her charge was still at the ledge. </p><p>“Come, Angel. We shall find another way across.” </p><p>Angel remained staring out across the vast snowy wasteland. </p><p>“Are your auditory processors malfunctioning?” Tannis crunched a boot down into the snow for emphasis. “Or is ignoring me a part of your anticipated rebellion?” </p><p>The intricate light shapes that came together to form Angel’s body began to flicker. Some of them turned a sour green, while others went completely dark. </p><p>“Angel?” Tannis was at her side in an instant, her leather boots practically sliding her right off the icy cliffside. “What’s the matter?” </p><p>Her eyesight wasn’t quite what it used to be, probably from getting sand in her eyes daily, but in the far distance she could just make out a vehicle in the snowy wind. There was movement on top of its hood. Tannis would have assumed it was two humans, but her ability to sense currents told her one of the creatures was mechanical. A high-pitched voice just barely carried over the howling winds. Someone was sitting on the hood of a light runner, blathering into an ECHO device, with a vaguely human-shaped mechanical entity beside them. </p><p>Angel had morphed completely to a sickly green color. She didn’t hide herself, though, which would have been Tannis’ indication she did not wish to interact with this person. </p><p>“I’m going to assume you have some sort of issue with the presence of that person in the distance.” Tannis’ words seemed to startle Angel, who quickly returned to her usual blue shade. </p><p>“Oh…no. That’s just Gaige. I don’t have a problem with her.” Angel drifted away from the ledge. “She’s probably talking to her dad. They’re close.” </p><p>It didn’t take a social savant to draw the implications from that statement. “Oh, who needs a father?” Tannis flicked her wrist in the direction of the distant vehicle. “Fathers are vastly overrated.” </p><p>“Aren’t you close with your dad?”  </p><p><em> I shouldn’t have told her to pull that hair back.  </em> Now Tannis was exposed to double the sad eyes. “Well, yes, but…”  Closing her gloved hand into a fist, she  stepped into Angel’s path.  “ Angel, I must  speak plainly  with you. Your father sucked. The universe is better off  in his absence.  <em> You </em> are better off in his absence. I know it can be difficult to move on from the death of a parent, regardless of your relationship with them, but for your own good, you must.” </p><p>The sadness in Angel’s big blue eyes rescinded, giving way to an optimistic turquoise light. “I know. Thank you, Doctor.” </p><p>Angel’s continued use of the honorific felt odd, but there was no other term that would be comfortable for the both of them.  </p><p>Although their walk was cut short, there was always plenty to take in on every inch of Pandora. Most of it was hostile, of course, which led to part of the walk being converted into a run.  </p><p>While Patty was doubled over, leaning on the nearby fast travel station to catch her breath, Angel examined the Catch-A-Ride beside it. “I always wanted to learn how to drive,” she said. </p><p>“Don’t…expect…” With a big breath, Tannis finally replenished her lost air. “Don’t expect assistance from me there. I despise every facet of driving.” </p><p>With a frown, Angel orbited around the vehicular digistruction device. “Hmm…oh no!”  </p><p>Tannis’ arm was concealed under her coat sleeve, but she felt the now-familiar itch of her powers activating. Moments later the Catch-A-Ride lit up, playing a pre-recorded message from that redneck mechanic with the unsettling stare. Its digistruction beams glowed to life and began constructing a light runner. </p><p>“Oh…I must have hit a button by mistake.” Angel was already settling her components into the driver’s seat. Her arm was glowing as well. “But no sense in wasting a perfectly good car, right?” </p><p>“I think you know perfectly well how it happened, Angel.” In spite of the chastisement, Tannis did not immediately cancel the digistruction. “How exactly do you intend to operate a vehicle when you are <em> incorporeal </em>?” </p><p>“Oh, that’s the easy part.” </p><p>Tannis’ arm itched again. Suddenly the light runner growled to life. “That doesn’t mean you can <em> safely </em> operate it-” </p><p>The car jerked forward. The last thing Tannis caught a glimpse of before it zoomed off was Angel wearing a look of demented joy, not far off from how Tannis herself looked when tearing into a new piece of research.  </p><p><em> Oh. This probably isn’t good. </em> </p><p>The runner tore through the snow and slid on the ice underneath, sending it fishtailing in a semi-circle. Then it came screeching back. Had Tannis not leapt out of the way, she would have been bouncing up and over the windshield. Sirens may have had an impressive ability to heal, but for a woman of her age that might have been pushing it. </p><p>Angel stopped the car a stretch away. Tannis hurried over, careful to stay out of the path should Angel decide to floor it in reverse. “I’m hopeful that satisfied your thirst for driving,” she said as she rested a palm on the side of the hood. “It certainly reminded me why I despise it.” </p><p>Even a woman as socially oblivious as herself could read Angel’s face in response to that question. She’d let her hair fall back into her face, but it failed to cover the sparkle in her eyes and the poorly-masked smile on her lips. </p><p>Tannis sighed so deeply that her shoulders sagged.  </p><hr/><p>“Slowly. Slowly. …More slowly.” </p><p>Sighing did nothing for an AI, but that didn’t stop Angel from doing it anyway. Still, it was hard to be mad–Jack would <em> never </em> have taught her how to drive. Driving granted freedom, and the ability to get away.  </p><p>The car was essentially rolling at the speed Tannis was comfortable with. The doctor was glued to her seat, clutching both the armrest and the door handle as if they weren’t cruising at about 5 miles per hour down the road. </p><p>Driving seemed pretty easy, at least when one could control the car with her mind. Like all electric-powered objects, it had its own quirks and methods, almost like a personality, but it was pretty simple to communicate with. Perks of it being built by Scooter, probably. </p><p>“This is so cool.” She couldn’t contain a giddy little giggle as she dared to accelerate just a bit. Tannis practically melded herself with the passenger seat. “I wonder if I could make that ramp jump?” </p><p>“Regardless of whether you make it or not, you will certainly lose me.”  </p><p>“Why? Are you going to jump out?” </p><p>“No. I mean that you will be driving my lifeless corpse around after I perish from a heart attack.” </p><p>Angel rolled her eyes, but cast a little smile Tannis’ way. Tannis did not acknowledge either gesture. She was avoiding eye contact, as usual. </p><p>Angel had often thought about what it would be like to have normal milestones in her life, like learning how to drive. Back when she was young and stupid and actually thought her father was going to let her live a normal life someday, she had asked him about it. His incredulous laughter still stuck in her heart like a thorn. <em> Angel, you–you can’t be serious.  </em> <em> You think I’m gonna let you just ride off into the sunset on a planet full of maniacs?? </em> </p><p>…Okay, maybe he had a <em>slight </em>point there. Sometimes his actions made sense. That made it harder to process the horrible things he did to her in-between. </p><p>She didn’t want to take her eyes off the road for too long, but she knew what she would see if she did. Dr. Tannis had a slight crookedness to her nose that was the result of a traumatic break. Her two black eyes had healed, but the deviated septum would never be right again. Angel had witnessed it back then. The visuals were horrifying, but what stuck with her most was the sound. The sound of a human body being pummeled, beaten and broken. The rhythmic <em> drip </em> on the cold metal floor as blood trickled from the nose and mouth.  </p><p>Then he’d spared her.  </p><p>Tannis was one of the most docile people on Pandora. Even after everything she’d been through, the only person she’d ever ended the life of was a colleague begging for death. And she’d struggled immensely with it. Angel had watched the whole thing.  </p><p>Even after that, and even after being beaten within an inch of her life, she never turned that malevolence on anyone else. No–she turned it all internally. Just like Angel did. </p><p>“Thank you,” Angel said aloud. </p><p>That got Tannis to look her way. “Well, I’m not exactly enthusiastic about this ‘driving lesson’. You’re probably shaving years off my life.” </p><p>“I know. That’s why I appreciate it.”  </p><p>Tannis was quiet for a moment, then replied with, “You’re doing much better than <em> I </em> did my first time.” </p><p>The road bent up ahead. Angel willed the car’s wheels to turn in accordance with the bend. “Did you crash or something?” </p><p>“Miraculously, no. But I froze up in the middle of the street, threw my father’s car into park, and started crying.” As was her usual, she laughed off the dark story. “I don’t think the traffic behind me was too pleased with that, if the horns, screams and middle fingers were anything to go by.” </p><p>“Oh no, that sounds awful!” She slowed the car a bit, afraid of whipping too fast around a corner (“too fast”, in this case, meaning “faster than walking speed”). “It must have been really hard for–um…” She barely caught herself before speaking as candidly as she would have to Jack. “I mean, I know about your, um. Y’know, the struggles you’ve had with stuff because of your…” </p><p>“My autism?” Tannis was smirking then, uncharacteristic for her. “Thank you for treading lightly, Angel, but I am not one easily offended. And it’s true–it did play a role. It has made my life harder in some ways. It also grants me a level of passion and dedication that others could never hope to match. So I’ve come to embrace it.” </p><p>“That’s a good way to look at it. I used to try to feel that way about my powers, but…”  </p><p>“Your powers <em> should </em> have been an incredible gift.” Tannis had sat up a bit by then, no longer gripping the car for dear life. “I would have encouraged you to explore your abilities to their fullest extent. Of course, I would have wanted to meticulously log every bit of that extent as well, but you can’t fault me for that.”  </p><p>Tannis was hardly the kind of person one would wish was their parent. But then again, Angel was hardly the kind of person one would wish was their child. So maybe it balanced out.  </p><p>Though she made no actual contact with it, Angel wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel. “I’m gonna jump that ramp.” </p><p>“You know I can take control of this car and stop you, right?” </p><p>“Yeah, but you wouldn’t do that.” </p><p>Tannis huffed. “And just what makes you think I wouldn’t?” </p><p>The car kicked into high gear and began to speed up. Tannis bit her lip, but did not take control of the car. Emboldened, Angel gave a mad cackle and pushed the pedal to the floor. </p><hr/><p>Even before Tannis opened her eyes, her senses were assailed with the smell of oily smoke and the taste of dirt in her mouth. Her clothes were also bogged down with freezing wetness, no doubt from landing in a pile of snow.  </p><p>Opening her eyes revealed the blurry outline of a girl standing over her – not a hologram, but a being of flesh and bone.  </p><p>“Wow, Dr. Tannis. I didn’t know you were into doing stunt jumps!” The girl’s voice was squeaky and sing-songy, nothing at all like the low monotone she’d gotten used to from… </p><p>“Angel!” Tannis scrambled to her feet, ignoring the ache in her back and legs. The light runner was smashed to pieces and scattered through the gulch they’d landed in after a disastrous attempt to jump over it.  </p><p>“Uh, no. It’s Gaige.” The girl followed her as Tannis began rooting through the smoking pieces of the cheaply-digistructed car. “Did you hit your head or something?”  </p><p>With a gasp, Tannis pushed aside a part to reveal Angel’s physical drive. The screen that normally depicted her CPU usage was lit up, but instead read “ERROR: IMPROPER SHUTDOWN”.  </p><p>“That was honestly pretty awesome,” the girl behind her prattled on. “I mean, even I could see you didn’t have the speed <em> or </em> trajectory to land the jump, but you went for it anyway! And you lived! I kinda want to try that now…” </p><p>Paying the other girl no attention, Tannis gingerly encapsulated the thick metal disc in her hands. Using Phaseshift, she ran her hands over its surface, communicating with all the delicate components inside. The error message soon faded. A few moments later, the drive rebooted, and a flickering projection of Angel, sprawled out just as Tannis had been, appeared in the light shining from the top of the disc.  </p><p>“Angel? Are you all right?” Tannis retained her hold on the girl’s physical “body”. </p><p>Angel opened her eyes. Tossing her hair back out of her face, she said, “…Where am I? Who are you?” </p><p>The questions hit her like a kick to the gut. “You…don’t remember who I am?” </p><p>Taking on that enigmatic little smile of hers again, Angel stuck her tongue out at Tannis.  </p><p>“Ugh, you’re going to send me to an early grave!” Tannis tossed the disc into the snow. “I should have built you <em> without </em> a personality.” </p><p>“Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be joking. But that was <em> so fun </em>–I mean, I’m sorry we crashed, but-” Angel sprang to her feet as she spoke, and was turning to face Tannis when she froze in place. </p><p>In her desperation to ensure Angel’s safety, Tannis had all but forgotten about the girl who had witnessed their doomed “stunt jump”. That girl was now staring, wide-eyed, at Angel. </p><p>“G-Gaige.” Angel’s image flickered again as her CPU spiked. “…Hi.” </p><p>Gaige ran her organic hand down the surface of her beat-up metal arm. “I thought you were dead.” </p><p>“Yeah, I…was.” </p><p>It was as if Tannis no longer existed for either girl. Gaige approached Angel with eyes full of fascination, while Angel remained nervously in place. “So somebody rebuilt you as an AI?” </p><p>“Um, yeah.”  </p><p>Gaige circled around her. Angel’s soft blue light took on a brief pink hue. She remained staring forward, occasionally flicking her gaze over at Tannis, who simply watched her back.  </p><p>“This is some pretty solid work,” Gaige remarked. “But why don’t you have an actual body?” </p><p>“It isn’t that easy,” Tannis jumped in, drawing the attention of both girls. “Trust me, I tried.” </p><p><em>"You </em>built this Angel?” Now Gaige’s focus was on Tannis. Tannis tried not to gag. “I didn’t know you worked with AI!”  </p><p>“Oh, you know…side hobby.”  </p><p>“Just being a hologram must kinda suck, though. Wait–idea!” Gaige clenched her metal fist. “You should totally let me build her a robot body! I can give her sensors so she can kinda feel things, upgrade her energy core so she can exert more power on a single recharge, install cool stuff like <em> laser eyes </em>  and  a  <em> flamethrower </em>  and  <em> BIG MEATY FISTS SO  </em> <em> SHE </em> <em>  CAN PUMMEL PEOPLE </em> and-” </p><p>“I don’t think any of that would be necessary,” Tannis interjected. </p><p>“Speak for yourself.” Angel nodded at Gaige. “Um, I probably wouldn’t need any heavy weaponry, but the other stuff sounds cool. Would you really build me a body?” </p><p>“Hell yeah! But c’mon, you need lasers, like, at the <em> very </em> least.” </p><p>Angel shrugged at Tannis. “I kinda do need lasers.” </p><p>“You just drove us off a cliff. Forgive me my hesitation in equipping you with deadly weapons.” </p><p>Angel studied Gaige, refraining from letting her hair shield her face. “I never thought I’d see you again. I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me, anyway.” </p><p>Gaige made a face. “Are you serious? Dude, I have, like, zero friends my age. A girl who’s as into techy stuff as I am? And who knows that I’m wanted for murder, resisting arrest, and running from the cops and is fine with that? That’s like two rainbows meeting in the same place!” Her words culminated in a mad, high-pitched laugh. Then she fell serious. “I was really bummed about what happened, y’know, before.” </p><p>Angel’s shoulders drooped a little. “Yeah.” </p><p>Giving Angel a physical body meant there was no longer any way to deny her full existence. She was real. Though no longer organic, she would be a real, actual girl. And she would be in Tannis’ care. </p><p>Tannis wondered what her parents would think. If she were to ever reach back out to her father again, she knew beyond any doubt that he would adore Angel. They had always held similar opinions of people. </p><p>“So can I <em> design </em> a body, at least?” Gaige reached into her greasy pigtail and pulled out a pencil, simultaneously retrieving a mini notebook from her pocket. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to go along with it. But I’ve been itching to build another bot. I wanna see if I can create one with legs that don’t suffer major drag and impede the bot’s movement.” </p><p>“I mean, if you’re okay with it,” Angel replied. “I wouldn’t want to impose…” </p><p>“Impose?! This is the happiest I’ve been in ages! I’m gonna draft up a prototype as soon as I get back to my ~secret lair~.” Gaige paused for a moment. “…Um, so can you two, like, turn around? It’s supposed to be a secret.” </p><p>Tannis and Angel exchanged a glance, then hesitantly turned away. From behind her, Tannis heard the sound of shoes slapping snow and heavy breaths as the maniacal teenager took off running. </p><p>“You really want a robot body?” Tannis asked once Gaige was out of earshot. </p><p>“…I don’t know. She seemed so excited about it.” </p><p>“You realize you’re probably going to end up looking like that disturbing flying torso that follows her around?” </p><p>Angel massaged the back of her neck. “Yeahhh.” Staring down at the footprints Gaige had left, her brow furrowed. “I probably shouldn’t have agreed to that.” </p><p>“Well, who knows? Perhaps she’ll come up with something tolerable. And…” </p><p>When she trailed off, Angel tilted her head a bit, waiting. </p><p>After a minute of internal debate, Tannis finally opted to say, “Were I ever to…introduce you to someone, I think it would be more easily processed with a physical form to behold.” </p><p>Angel’s lips pursed. “I mean, mostly everyone already knows me here-” </p><p>“I’m referring to someone off-planet.” </p><p>“Oh.” </p><p>Tannis cut any possible further inquiries off with a hand wave. “Anyway, we should head back. This walk has already been eventful enough.” </p><p>“Agreed.” Angel came up beside her, matching her drifting to the speed of Tannis’ steps. “Are you okay, by the way? I mean, after the, uh, ‘misdirected’ jump?” </p><p>“Fine. A little sore, but fine.”  </p><p>“I’m sorry.”  </p><p>Perhaps she should have been more upset. Perhaps she should have shouted and stamped her feet and said <em> That’s it, never again! </em>  After all, what she did was insane! And dangerous! And, weirdly…a little bit fun.  </p><p>“Oh…” She waved her hand when the words wouldn’t come. “You’re only young once and all that. Although you’ve technically lived twice.” </p><p>Angel got a giggle out of that. “But, you know, I was thinking maybe later–or tomorrow, or whenever–maybe we could do something <em> you’d </em> like to do. Like, I don’t know, you could tell me about your research, or recommend me some of your favorite books. Or both.”  </p><p>It had been a long, long time since anyone willingly offered to listen to her theories and observations. The Crimson Raiders just wanted to know the bottom line–how it would help them achieve their treasure-hunting goals. To have someone just sit and listen for the sake of listening? </p><p>“I…yes. I think I would enjoy that.” Tapping her chin, she added, “But perhaps tomorrow? Today has been quite an endeavor.” </p><p>“Sure! I’ve got to catch Claptrap up on what’s happening, anyway. I can’t wait to tell him I drove! And that Gaige still wants to be friends. I never expected that.” </p><p>Their walk was a whole lot longer on the way back due to both Tannis’ aches and pains and the fact that they had to claw their way out of a frozen gulch. Had she been alone, Tannis probably would have just sat down and curled up into a ball of anxiety until either someone found her, she became bored of such a state, or she froze to death. Instead, with Angel tucked into her satchel, she found the strength to go on. She couldn’t just leave the girl out there, after all. </p><p>As she pushed her way through the snowy wastes of Pandora, her mind was on an entirely different planet. </p><hr/><p>If Moxxi was surprised to see Patty return to the bar a few days after her last excursion to it, she did not say so. In fact, she had a drink prepared by the time Tannis even picked a seat.  </p><p>“Heya, sugar. How’s things?” Moxxi slid her an ice-cold glass. This time it was dark red with a lime wedge.  </p><p>“I have no complaints.” Hoping that would end the conversation, Tannis took a sip of her drink. It was definitely raspberry giving it the red color. The tiny seeds crunched between her teeth, sending a cringe through her. “Redacted–I have one complaint.” </p><p>“Aww, and here I thought I knew you so well.” Moxxi swept the drink up and dumped it right out. With her back turned, she added, “I wonder what else I don’t know about you, Doctor?” </p><p>“Well, probably many things, considering we haven’t conversed all that much over the years.” </p><p>“Yeah, but you know the basics about me. The most fundamental things. Like the fact that I have kids.” </p><p>Tannis was tempted to scrape the remaining raspberry seeds off her tongue with her finger, but (just barely) refrained. “True, I suppose I do know that.” </p><p>Moxxi cast a glance about the bar. As usual, there wasn’t much of a daytime crowd–and those who were there mostly kept to themselves at tables away from the counter. Apparently satisfied with that, Moxxi leaned her elbows on the counter in front of Tannis, shed her showgirl smile, and whispered, “I saw you yesterday.” </p><p>“Well that’s not surprising. We live in the same city, after all.” Tannis frowned. “Although to be honest, most of you just blend together in my vision like background noise.” </p><p>“I saw you with Angel,” Moxxi said flatly. </p><p>All of Tannis’ background thought processes paused. Suddenly she was paying very clear attention to the woman in front of her. </p><p>It was true, she hadn’t been as careful on the way back home as she should have been. She was absorbed in talking to Angel, the first time she could ever recall being actively interested in social interaction. Though she had little in the way of worldly experience, the girl’s wealth of intellect from a lifetime of being plugged into the reservoir of all human knowledge made her a simply fascinating conversationalist. Despite Tannis’ request to spend the evening alone, the two of them ended up sitting on the outskirts of Sanctuary for the better part of an hour after their arrival back, talking about life, death, and everything in-between.  </p><p>She was so unaccustomed to the practice that she hadn’t paid any mind to potential eavesdroppers. </p><p>“I mean, I guess it’s none of my business.” Moxxi stood back up, her poker face back on. “Just curious how it came about.” </p><p>How did one even begin to explain it? A hundred trains of thought collided in her head, leaving her sifting through the wreckage for something to say.  </p><p>Her prolonged silence prompted Moxxi to speak again. “She’s a good kid. Nothing like her father. So however this came about, you have my whole-hearted support.” </p><p>“…Really?” was all Tannis could manage to say. </p><p>“I’m just a little surprised it’s <em> you </em> who’s looking after her.” Moxxi flashed that sly little smile of hers. “Chasing that MILF title?” </p><p>“Milf?” Tannis studied the other woman’s face, trying to derive some meaning from it. “I-I don’t follow.” </p><p>“You’re cute, Patty.” Moxxi brushed her hand briefly over Tannis’. “Honestly, you’re probably the best one to be looking after her. At least out of everyone here.” </p><p>“You are not reacting in the way I’d anticipated.” Tannis leaned in a bit closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I’ve resurrected Handsome Jack’s spawn, and you are perfectly fine with this?” </p><p>Moxxi shrugged, just as theatrical as all her other gestures. “I think you two could be good for each other.” </p><p>“She is certainly <em> not </em>  good for me. I’m staying up far too late, all my research has been delayed, I was in a  <em> car accident </em> yesterday for science’s sake, trying to teach her how to drive!” </p><p>When Tannis looked up again, Moxxi was wearing a wry smile. “Welcome to being a mom, sugar. You’ll never get a full night’s sleep again.” </p><p>“Oh, I don’t consider myself her mother. I simply recreated an already-existing life form created by someone else. Sort of like how transcribing a text does not make you the author of said text.” </p><p>“Hm.” Moxxi turned, and began mixing another drink. “Does she see it that way?” </p><p>“Of course! Well, I mean, I haven’t <em> asked </em> her that, but I’m sure her logical reasoning is as sound as mine. She is my progeny, after all.” </p><p>“I thought you just transcribed her.” </p><p>“Well, not quite. I did add a bit of my own interpretation to fill in gaps in her digital backups. So it isn’t a 1:1 perfect recreation.” </p><p>“So you’re saying you contributed a part of yourself when making her.” Moxxi set a new drink down in front of her–it was a similar strawberry one from her last visit. “Hmm. Sounds like a parent to me. But hey, what do I know? I’m just the bartender.” </p><p>Thankful for the distraction, Tannis took a sip of her drink and chose to focus on the glass instead of the woman in front of her. Internally, she knew Moxxi’s assertion was correct. Tannis matched most every definition of the word “parent” in reference to Angel. She was as much of a biological donor as one could be to an AI. She was looking after her. This Angel, with all her quirks and oddities, was a part of Patty that now existed independently, outside of her body. </p><p>The daiquiri went down like sludge in her throat. <em> I wasn’t ready for this. I am absolutely not the maternal typ </em> <em> e. </em> <em>  I’m not even </em> <em>  the paternal type. </em> She’d been convincing herself for the past week that crafting a being out of a mixture of someone else’s components and her own was not equivalent to, well, that exact same process in creating organic beings. But the more she analyzed (okay, maybe more like obsessed over) it, the more connections her mind made.  </p><p><em> Patty, you absolute fool. You’ve gone and jumped feet-first into something  </em> <em> crazy yet again. </em> </p><p>Her panic must have been visible, for Moxxi leaned down and settled a hand on hers again. Normally Patty loathed being touched by others, but with Moxxi she found she didn’t entirely mind.  </p><p>“I know it’s scary, hon. Trust me, I’ve been through it twice. And I don’t always feel like I succeeded.” She kept her touch light, but ran her thumb gently over the back of Tannis’ scarred hands. “If you need any help, you know I’m always around.” </p><p>She wanted to say more, to scream <em> Yes, I absolutely need help with this! </em> But she couldn’t form the words. And Moxxi didn’t know her well enough to understand her unspoken language. </p><p>Keeping her eyes off the other woman, Tannis reached into the pocket of her coat. Her engraved star necklace sat nestled at the bottom, as always. <em> Through hardships, to the stars.  </em> </p><p>To find someone who truly understood you was a rarity for most. For Tannis, it was a unicorn. Perhaps she should not have let it go so easily. </p><p>As usual, Moxxi did not seem to expect any polite farewells. When Tannis got up and headed for the door, the other woman simply watched her go. Stopping in the doorway, Tannis swallowed, forced herself to turn around, and said, “You’ll probably be seeing more of me.” </p><p>“Lookin’ forward to it.” </p><p>Still toying with the necklace in her pocket, Tannis wandered back toward her base. There was so much to think about. So much to worry about. And only one person who could thoroughly understand. </p><p>Maybe it was time to reach out again. </p>
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